When Pigs Fly
by Lorry
Summary: The Adventures of Ivy Ollivander, who comes to Hogsmeade to find she's not the only one with secrets to keep and stories to tell.
1. Home To Hogsmeade

When Pigs Fly

Author: Lorry

hagrid7@mailbolt.com

Summary: An old friend with a secret comes to visit Madam Rosmerta in Hogsmeade, helping Harry with recurring predicament. (And finds her own personal hero along the way)

Disclaimer: Harry and his cohorts all belong to Warner Bros. and JK Rowling. Not to me. That being said, the offering below is by no means an attempt to profit from someone else's licensed characters. It is for entertainment purposes only.

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When Pigs Fly 

By Lorry

Prologue:

"My dearest Elana, I can see no way around this. We are going to _have_ to send the child away."

The words pierced the new mother to her very soul. She cast out desperate pleas like safety ropes, in the hope that one or two of them might catch her husband's heart and save her and her baby from a fate worse than death. 

"We can't, Augustus. Please reconsider. I understand your concerns, but can we not.... wait? We could be wrong. Let us wait until she's 11, at least. If there is no letter from Hogwarts we'll know for sure. And _then_ we can do what must be done. Please... Augustus?"

Augustus Ollivander could not hold his wife's gaze. He stared at the hardwood floor, the boards creaking loudly as he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. A tiny sigh escaped his lips as he attempted to say something, then changed his mind. His shoulders sagged more than a little. The stars had foretold it. Tea leaves had announced it to any who'd been deft enough to read them. Even the cards had proclaimed what the new father held to be true, but standing there, just moments after the midwives had placed little Ivy in her mother's arms, the staid and hard-nosed Augustus had begun to flounder. 

"Just till she's 11," Elana repeated, tugging at her husband's sleeve. "If there's no letter... then we'll know."

"Alright, love," Augustus breathed, the tightness in his chest easing with the decision finally made. "We will wait until then." He bent and kissed his dear wife's forehead, still wet with the perspiration of her previous exertions. "But if you think it will be any easier to let her go after holding her for 11 years, I am afraid that you are wrong. Deathly afraid. Lord Voldemort is only getting stronger. A little thing like this would be defenseless before him. Our name, Elana..." This was where the argument got sticky. "We cannot forget the impact that something like this could have... We've been among the most upstanding wizarding families since before time was recorded. I cannot forget that."

"Oh, Augustus, I swear you won't regret this." Elana gave him a tired but triumphant smile. She watched with sadness as her husband walked away. She understood their differences. Things that were important to him had long ago lost their impact on her. Things like names and reputations. Especially in these last nine months as baby Ivy'd grown inside her. All that concerned Elana now was the tiny bundle fretting in her arms. She settled back against the pillows that propped her up in bed and prepared to nurse the baby. Their eyes locked for a long and tender moment. Brushing the tiny cheek with the ball of her thumb the new mother whispered into her baby's ear.

"Now how could anybody on this earth possibly believe that you're not magic?"

From a darkened corner of the room a shadow rose and padded to the bedside where mother and baby were getting acquainted. 

"We get to keep her then?" A little girl's voice broke into the silence. She gazed down, wringing her hands in an attempt to keep from touching the infant, at least until she was invited.

"Yes, Rosie," Elana smiled. With her free hand she patted the empty spot beside her on the bed. "Come meet my brand new little Ivy. I've a feeling you're going to be great friends."

The dark haired girl rounded the foot of the bed and settled in beside Elana, shy fingers caressing wispy locks of the baby's chestnut hair. 

"Hello, Ivy," she whispered. "Welcome to the world."

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Chapter One:

Home to Hogsmeade

Ivy Ollivander strode purposefully past the myriad of shop windows that fronted Diagon Alley, heels clacking on the uneven cobblestone street. She'd learned that she'd attract less attention this way; simply pretending she belonged, so, tucking her chin close to her chest, she walked on, pulling her burgundy cloak more tightly around her shoulders. 

In truth, she hadn't been down these streets since her mother died, nearly 13 years ago. And if her father happened upon her now... Ivy wouldn't even allow her thoughts to wander that path. She'd come home for good this time, resolute that he wouldn't ship her off again. Now all she had to do was find a place to settle beyond his disapproving gaze.

"It's just not fair," Ivy whispered for the millionth time, in an accent that was more American than British. Though she'd been born not far from the very street she now traveled, she felt like a tourist, an outsider. Places and names that should have been familiar sounded foreign as she whispered them into the breeze. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Eeylop's Owl Emporium. It didn't take a genius to understand that like Dorothy, she was not in Kansas anymore. She made her way down the street toward her great-grandfather's shop, the one place in Diagon Alley that had always served as a haven.

He was a wand-maker, of all things. The _premier_ wand-maker of the present age. She realized unhappily that her whim to move back among magical people could mark his name forever, with the biggest, blackest mark of all wizard-dom; a squib in the family. The Ollivander family, no less. Wand-makers since 300 BC. Magical since before time began. All except Ivy, who for some reason had been born totally devoid of any trace of power, magical or otherwise. 

She'd been separated from her family for years, simply for that reason. To say the tall, angular woman fostered bitterness toward that fact would have understated the obvious.

Her father had always held to the excuse that she'd be defenseless if Lord Voldemort, most heinous of all wizards, had ever chosen to attack the family. Ivy'd believed him at first. Believed him as totally as any loyal little girl believed her daddy. Until her mother died. And Ivy'd come home to find that a slip of a child named Harry Potter had ended Voldemort's reign. He wasn't a threat anymore, but still Augustus Ollivander made all the arrangements to send her away again. The big black "ONE WAY" stamp on her ticket had announced to everyone that nobody wanted her in Great Britain. 

A sadness entered Ivy's soul on that long journey across the world. A sadness that shadowed everything she was. It haunted her eyes and her laughter. Only time in the wand shop with her great-grandfather could alleviate her melancholy. Only here did she feel accepted and unconditionally loved, for it was here she'd spent most of her first 11 years, toddling behind her mother as she'd learned the family business. 

__

"Yes," Ivy thought as she pushed open the wand shop's door. _"I can think of only one person who might help me." _She stepped inside to the welcoming embrace of her great-grandfather, ready to begin phase one of her plan: a request to a very old friend.

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__

Dearest Madam Rosmerta,

Ivy's letter's opening phrase caused its author to bite her lip. She twiddled the quill over parchment, watching ink splatter and spread. How could she possibly pick the right words, when her whole future hung in the balance? 

__

Just be honest, she told herself. _Rose will understand_.

Taking a deep breath, she started again, this time feeling a bit more confidence. A bony old hand patted her shoulder from behind, encouraging her to move on.

__

Dear Rosie,

How are you, Love? 

I hope you're doing well. I know it's been a while since I've written, but I'm afraid I need your help. Now more than ever!

Remember when we used to plot back and forth about me coming home and hiding out with you? It seems so long ago. We were only children then, and everything seemed so possible! I know we're grown up now, but that scheme's never left the back of my mind. I'm coming home shortly, and I've decided it's for good this time. I'm thinking that perhaps in Hogsmeade I'd be safe. 

Of course we'd have to keep my 'condition' secret, if only to spare Father. (And me when he finally finds me!) I know it's an awful imposition, and if you'd rather not get dragged into the middle of family business, I understand perfectly. You have always been and will forever remain my 

Best friend forever,

Ivy O.

PS: please respond by this owl, it knows where I am.

"There," Ivy breathed, glancing at the old man reading over her shoulder. "Do you think that'll do, Grey-Grand?"

The elder Ollivander gave his great-granddaughter a tremulous smile, squeezing her shoulder as he stepped from behind her to look out the window of his shop. 

"It's fine, Ivy," he said, watching as she tied the parchment to the leg of his great horned owl and sent him out the window. "You've done all that you can do. Now we must await a reply from Rosmerta. If she has misgivings..." the old man paused a moment, stroking his stubbly chin. Something just past the pillow-and-wand window display caught his attention, and his conversation with his great-granddaughter was forgotten for a heart beat. He really was too old to be playing games of hide-and-seek.

"Did you see him?" Ivy asked, standing to her feet. She slipped back into the wand shop's shadows warily. The dusty boxes of wands stacked to the ceiling were so like home to the girl that she had physically ached to see them again. Her hand traced lovingly down one row, then another. 

"Grey-Grand?"

Mr. Ollivander turned at the sound of the name Ivy had given him in early childhood. Far before her little mouth could form around big words like 'Great-Grandfather'.

"No. Nothing," he assured her.

"Good," she responded, emerging from the shadows to kiss his leathery cheek. "Then I can stay for a while. You know how I love this place, Grey-Grand. I don't want to be sent away again."

"You're a grown woman now, Ivy. No one can force you to leave."

Ivy laughed. "Tell that to Father."

"Maybe I shall, child. He is still my grandson."

"Yes, and as a dutiful grandfather you will honor his wishes to keep the Ollivander family name safe from any blemish, won't you?" she chided. "I don't want a family feud over whether I stay or go. But I was brought up here. I can live among magical people. Somehow. I just have to learn how to hide my... erm... _handicap_."

Ivy's great-grandfather laughed aloud and folded her into his embrace. "I will echo the sentiment your mother used so many, many times, God rest her soul. You have a magic all your own, my Ivy. Different, perhaps. But there. Always there." 

Ivy clung to the only champion left to her, breathing in the scent of musty wand boxes and newly-hewn wood and wondering for the millionth time if she could really pull this off. 

"I do miss Mum," she whispered against her great-grandfather's blue satin robe. She pressed her cheek into the fabric as he tightened his grip, then held her at arm's length. 

"We all do, Ivy. And if I could convince you that your father is trying, in his way, to protect you, I'd offer that argument again. But you've heard it all before. Suffice it to say that your visit today has given one old man great reason to get out of bed this morning."

Ivy laughed as he released her to straighten a stack of narrow wand boxes that rested on his front counter. "You have many reasons to get out of bed in the morning, I'd imagine. New wands to put together. New customers to please. And if Father comes to visit..."

" 'I haven't heard from dear sweet Ivy in ages', and 'Don't you think it's time you let that girl come home where she belongs?'"

"Exactly! Bravo. You are magnificent. And I love you." She turned to sit in a velvet-covered chair, only briefly allowing her hand to caress a long mahogany wand that lay within arm's reach.

"Go on," Mr. Ollivander sighed, as he served them both a steamy cup of tea. "Pick it up. But nothing's changed since last time you tried one." 

The girl turned sea-green eyes upon her great-grandfather. Enormous eyes that asked the one question she no longer dared to voice. 

"I don't know why, Ivy," the old man sighed. "Why magic chooses one and passes by another. Why in a family of wizards that predates history, fate would decide to throw in a..." he clamped his mouth shut before uttering the word he knew she hated above all others.

"You just have to believe what your mother told us," he continued. "You do have magic. A magic all your own."

"Well," Ivy started, "I want the kind of magic you have. The kind that fills the universe with hope. As long as there's magic, things will go on as they have for centuries. The stars will retain their peculiar orbits 'round a planet that can't live without them." She rose passionately to her feet, strands of chestnut hair loosening from the bun tightly twisted at the nape of her neck.

"I want to Accio that pillow. I want to Incendio the wood in that fireplace. I want to..."

"Enough, Granddaughter." Ollivander stopped her. "The entire human race is busy wanting things it cannot have. Do you think you are the first to ponder fate's decisions? Do you assume that the feeling of being on the outside looking in is an emotion belonging only to you?"

"Of course not," Ivy murmured, taking her seat. She usually chose to pout at this point in the conversation, but the scent wafting from the tea cup and the sunshine warming her shoulders through the window gave her the serenity to momentarily stop questioning the fates. 

"I better go," she whispered, studying her cup for a lingering moment. How she wished she could just enjoy her time here, instead of ruining it in jealous contemplation.

"I'll be back this time tomorrow."

"I think you might want to stay a minute," her Grey-Grand replied, pointing to an enlarging form looming in the shop's side window. 

"No!" Ivy beamed toward the owl as it landed amidst the wand boxes and parchments on the counter. "She couldn't have responded. It's too soon."

"You've forgotten the power of magic," Ollivander chided.

Ivy only threw him a grin, turning to relieve the owl of its parchment burden.

__

Ivy!

The letter began.

__

How could you possibly even stop to ask if I WANTED you to come to Hogsmeade? You have no idea how much I've missed you, then. I know by the owl that you must be in London somewhere, probably hiding out with that amazing great-grandfather of yours. Which means you could make Hogsmeade by tomorrow, earliest. I'm expecting you.

I'm keeping this short, in hopes I'll catch you quicker.

Your (most excited) friend,

Rosmerta

Ivy laughed in relief at her friend's cryptic letter. 

"She wants me."

"You see, then, don't you? I told you all would work itself out in the end. Faith, my little Ivy. You only have to show a bit of faith." 

Ivy threw her arms around her great-grandfather, her world suddenly alight with expectation. 

"Go get your things ready," Ollivander continued. "And come to see me soon and tell me how things are going." He said this last as Ivy headed toward the door. 

"I promise, Grey-Grand," she spoke as she stopped in the doorway. "I'll see you again, very soon."

With that, Ivy Ollivander strode quickly toward The Leaky Cauldron, the nearest porthole to the Muggle world where she was staying, intent to begin her new life back among magical people as soon as she could.


	2. Ivy And Rose

Chapter Two:

Ivy and Rose

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Hogsmeade looked exactly as Ivy remembered it. The thatch-roofed buildings and quaint little shops blinked to her in the moonlight as she finally rode in from London. Her motor scooter was efficient, but speed was not one of its amenities. 

A small group of people spilled out of the Three Broomsticks, so Ivy shrank into the shadows and watched them depart. The whole atmosphere felt different here. Untouched and enchanting, the perfect setting for a fairy tale. Ivy stood on High Street, drinking deep of the fine summer evening. 

A strange feeling came over her as she headed toward the heavy wooden door of Rosmerta's pub. Her hand shook as it took hold of the banister. Dread mixed with excitement until she felt positively light-headed. She became so oblivious of her surroundings that she nearly screamed when the steps beneath her rumbled and an enormous man pushed past her and put a hand to the door.

"Sorry Miss," the huge man spoke, turning to look her way. "Di'n't see you there." 

Ivy stared at him, mouth hanging open. Never in all of her days had she encountered anybody this big. The hand he used to push open the door was bigger than the tires on her scooter. His hair was a wild black tangle, blown wilder still in the breeze, and as she looked into his eyes Ivy felt faint. Thankfully she had enough presence of mind to tighten her grip on the banister before she fell backward all the way down the stairs.

"Ladies first, hmmm?" the giant asked, in a voice that was pleasant enough. He stepped to the side, holding the door open for her to enter. 

Ivy, unfortunately, was rooted to the spot. She could no more make her legs move than she could have kissed the man in the moon. The only thing that saved her was a voice from inside, yelling out her name. Rosmerta rushed past the giant to pull her through the door. Ivy allowed this obediently, but not before noticing the red that had crept into the huge man's face. 

__

You really have forgotten about magic, Ivy scolded herself. _And totally embarrassed that man on the step._

There was no time to go back and right things, for Rosmerta was going on about how good it was to see her finally in Hogsmeade. 

"I was about to send out a search owl," she informed, looking Ivy over from head to toe. "Where are your things?"

"Out on the scooter," Ivy replied, head still spinning. She looked toward the door, but the huge man had moved to the bar that dominated the back wall of the Three Broomsticks. The crowd was sparse, but Ivy had a feeling that even had the house been packed, someone as large as he would never get lost in a crowd

"Hagrid, be a dear and help Ivy with her things," Rosie commanded happily. The giant turned around.

"Rosie," Ivy protested, giving the man called Hagrid an apologetic look. "I can get those. It's not much, really. I don't even know..."

"Name's Rubeus Hagrid," the giant informed, his eyes burning bright. He held out an enormous hand, and Ivy watched as it swallowed her own. 

"I.. I.. Ivy," she stuttered, feeling duller by the moment. "I'm Ivy Ollivander. Just in from..." she paused, not sure exactly how to continue. 

Rosie finally came to her rescue. "All right everyone, a round of drinks on me. Come meet my best friend in the world, Ivy Ollivander." 

Those still in the pub gathered around, and Ivy pumped more hands, listening politely to names announced that she knew she'd never remember. She watched as Rosmerta rounded the bar and brought down an enormous tankard.

"First one's for you, Hagrid, if you'll bring in Ivy's trunks."

"My pleasure, Rose," Hagrid spoke. Turning to Ivy, he gave her a nod. "Nice to meet you, I- I- Ivy." He winked, then lumbered out the door.

"This is Remus Lupin, Ivy," Rosie said, tearing Ivy's gaze from the receding giant to focus on the man before her. "He's just got a professorship up at Hogwarts. He'll be teaching Defense of the Dark Arts." 

A pale young man stood at Rosie's side. His eyes were kind, but weary. The worn robes he wore struck a memory in the depths of her mind, and as they shook hands Ivy got the feeling she'd seen him before. Or at least heard the name. "Oh yes!" she managed finally. "Rosie's spoken of you. It's a pleasure to meet you." 

Rosie beamed. Linking her arm in Ivy's she led her to the backside of the bar. "It's time to start earning your keep," she announced, and Ivy spent the next few minutes finding glasses so Rose could serve the customers still in the pub. Ivy discovered that she had no time to be nervous as she scrambled to help her friend. 

Hagrid came in with Ivy's trunks as the last few patrons were leaving. Remus Lupin sat alone at the bar, with Rose directly across from him, wiping things up with a towel.

"Just set those down anywhere," she directed the giant. "And come get a drink. You'll need one after that load."

"Not a problem," Hagrid replied, dropping the trunks near the stairs leading to the upper floor. He was beaming, but not just from exertion. Red was creeping back into his face as he picked the tankard up from the bar. He took a long drink, then set it down, wiping his mouth with a sleeve.

"Perfesser Lupin," he grinned. "I heard ya got the job up ta Hogwarts. Congratulations."

Moustache still twitching, he took another long drink. 

"What are you hiding, Hagrid?" Rosmerta asked, leaning against the backside of the bar. She'd learned over long years at the pub to read her customers like a book. That was one of the reasons they kept returning. 

"Well," the giant began, glancing Ivy's way. "Remus here ain't the on'y new teacher at Hogwarts this year, is all."

Rosie walked to where Hagrid was sitting, hands on hips as she waited for more information. Ivy took a barstool, watching in amusement as her friend faced down the giant. She knew the warm feeling growing inside her had to be showing on the outside. All the doubts she'd harbored earlier in the evening were dissipating, and Ivy felt for the first time that she'd made the right choice. 

"Who, Hagrid?" Rose was prodding. "Tell us before you explode."

The giant grinned, unable to hold out any longer. "I'm takin' over the Care 'a Magical Creatures class this year. A'ready got the first critters on order. Hippogriffs. They ought a do nicely, don' ya think?"

Lupin stood to congratulate Hagrid, pumping his arm vigorously. Rose just stared, absently taking the seat that happened to be closest. Obviously there was more to this announcement than Ivy knew, because the longer Rosie stared the redder Hagrid got, until finally he had to hide his face in an enormous handkerchief. Ivy stood to her feet, but Rose held up a hand.

"He's alright," she assured the other girl. "He's waited a long time for this, is all." The older woman sat up straight and gave Ivy a long look. "He's not the only one in this room whose got dreams comin' true, is he?"

Ivy felt her own tears prick the back of her eyelids then, and turned back to her seat to hide them. Remus laid a comforting hand on her arm, and Ivy couldn't help but give him a grateful smile. 

"Welcome home, Ivy." Lupin murmured. He held his glass high and turned to face the other three. "May the fates be kind to each of us as we begin our new endeavors."

An oversized tankard of mulled mead, two red currant rums and a glass of soda-and-cherry-syrup all met in mid-air over Rosie's bar and hung there a moment, then the reverent silence was broken as different voices began to talk at once. All but Ivy, who sat quietly watching, happier than she'd been in a very long time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All right then, Ivy," Rosmerta's voice broke the morning quiet. Ivy rolled over to look at her new roommate.

"No sleepin' late 'round here. I've got to show you the kitchen."

"Morning Rose," Ivy sighed. "I don't think I slept a wink, anyway." She peered at the older woman through locks of tousled chestnut hair. Memories came flooding back as Rose stood to make her bed.

"You used to make Mum's bed," she said. "I tried to help and only made things worse." Sitting up, she pushed back her hair and pulled the covers up around her chin. 

Rosie smiled at the recollection. "Thought you'd sleep like a baby, being back among us magic-folk. Is it the bed? I had to round it up on short notice, but it seemed..."

"It wasn't the bed," Ivy interrupted. "It was my imagination. I couldn't get it to quiet down long enough for me to go to sleep. I never thought that this would be so... _scary_."

"'Fraid Daddy'll find you?" Rosie asked, rounding her bed to sit on the edge of Ivy's.

"Yes!," Ivy grimaced. "Not to mention the fact that I'll be surrounded by witches and wizards soon. Everyone who comes to your pub's gonna _know_, Rosie. They'll know I'm not magic. That giant nearly scared me out of my skin last night. The look in his eyes... I was sure he knew something. He could tell just by looking."

"Hagrid?" Rosie asked, giving her friend pat on the knee. "He's harmless. Can't even do magic himself unless he's got permission. They're not gonna know. Trust me. And if they suspect anything, nobody'd be rude enough to pry. You really are safe here. I promise. Willa and I will be watching your back. We can _do_ this, Ivy. _You_ can do this."

Ivy gave her friend a dubious look "Who's Willa?"

"My house elf."

Ivy groaned and sank back against her headboard, pulling a pillow down over her head.

"She's very loyal," Rose continued. "She won't be tellin' any secrets. Now make your bed and let's get downstairs. We've got lots of ground to cover before tea." 

Rosmerta's last statement turned out to be true. Ivy'd barely gotten over meeting Willa, the pub's peach-skinned, violet-eyed house elf, when Rosie attempted to quiz her on the location of various utensils.

"This is my most important tool," she informed her guest, twirling a long maple wand between her fingers. "Since you don't have one, you're going to have to operate a bit differently. Can you cook? You know... the Muggle way?"

"Without magic, you mean?" Ivy countered. "And thanks for bringing that up." She surveyed the kitchen, which consisted of two rooms, one, the preparatory area, with a big black pot-bellied stove, and lots of counter space. In the center of this room sat a huge butcher block table, set with a long, low bench on either side, and heavy wooden chairs at both ends. 

The other, smaller room held an oversized fireplace and wooden work island, it's farthest wall set with gold-bathed mullioned windows. Gleaming copper and burnished silver pots and pans winked merrily from various hooks on the walls, and over by the fireplace a door built into the floor stood ajar, revealing stairs that led down to a roomy root cellar.

"It's just a fact of life, Ive, nothin' personal." Rose said, hands on hips as she surveyed her friend. The sea green eyes, the long brown hair, curling slightly now that it had yet to be tamed into its usual twist. Ivy was tall, but not as tall as Rosie. Her complexion was lighter, with a fine dusting of freckles sprinkled across her slightly upturned nose. Where Rosie had always been more curvaceous, Ivy was all angles, with bony shoulders and elbows. Suddenly Rose knew that if she could see under her friend's long black skirt, her knees would be just as bony as they were when they'd been kids together, sharing a room and a bed in the Ollivander household. 

"You're gonna have to say goodbye to that chip on your shoulder," the older woman started, softening her gaze. "I swear on my death not to call you a squib, but facts are facts. You _have_ to cook the Muggle way. At least you're not..."

Rosie cast about for an example of something more pitiful than magic-less Ivy.   


"A house elf."

Willa, who'd been busy till that point tending a fire in the fireplace, whirled around to throw her mistress a baleful stare.

"House elf's got our own magic, we has," she defended, from the end of a long iron poker. "We gets the potatas peeled and the pheasants plucked. Don't need no wand to do it, neither. And ya wasn't tellin' me she's a squib, Madam Rosie. Means extra work fer Willa, it does, and there's work a'plenty as it is."

Ivy sighed and sank into the nearest chair. "Even the house help hates me."

"Hold on there," Rosie cautioned, giving Willa a blistery look. "Maybe we're just movin' too fast. Maybe you need more time to get settled. I just thought it'd be fun, us workin' together again. Heaven knows I need the help, but that's not important. Not really. You need to learn to trust us, Ivy. You can be yourself here. Not the Ivy you were tryin' to be around Muggles. Not the Ivy pretendin' to be magic for wizards. Just be Ivy Ollivander. The rest'll take care of itself."

Turning around to face the ornately carved but slightly crooked cupboards, Rosmerta lifted her wand.

"We're havin' fish and chips for lunch. And ham and cheese on rye. Old Mr. Honeyduke'll want his usual Reuben sandwich, later, and we'd best not be forgettin' to have him some a those Muggle potato crisps. Dinner'll be Yorkshire pudding with roast beef, and we'll have steak-and-kidney pie. We'll cook up some corn and sweet peas on the side."

At that Willa caused a line of fresh-shucked corn-on-the-cob to float from its storage cellar toward the kitchen's big sink. Rosie Summoned a huge black cauldron and it landed in the fireplace with a clang.

Over at her table Ivy watched in silence for a moment. Rosie had everything planned out so neatly. She looked like a gypsy performing a dance amidst floating pots and utensils. Every moved she made sang of a confidence her younger friend was lacking. She longed for it, but knew that it was missing. Ivy'd always felt so awkward around the more graceful and beautiful Rosmerta. But sitting there in the kitchen, watching sunbeams fill the windows and wash the floor with gold, Ivy felt a new sort of courage grow within her. If Rosie believed, then maybe it _was_ possible for Ivy to live among magical people, as she'd always longed to do. Hope surged inside her and she rose to her feet.

"Did you say Yorkshire pudding?" she asked, twirling deftly to miss a flying pot and its accompanying potatoes and peas. "I forgot all about Yorkshire pudding. Savory or sweet?"

Rose turned to study her face. "Savory tonight, to go with the roast beef, but I'll make some sweet for you tomorrow."

Standing in the kitchen at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, best friend in front of her and house elf behind, Ivy Ollivander burst into tears.

"How could you forget Yorkshire pudding?" Rosie chided, pulling her friend into an embrace. 

Ivy laughed through her tears and shrugged her shoulders. "They just don't make it in places I've been."

"We'll make a special dinner tonight then," Rosie announced. "A little bit of all that you've forgotten."

Ivy gave another laugh and looked down at Willa, who was insistently offering a hanky.

"That's OK, Rosie. It's not necessary. Not really. We're going to have lots of time to catch up."

"Won't calls ya a squib no more, Squib," Willa interjected, huge tears shining unshed in her own tennis ball-sized eyes. Ivy'd never seen such a sad face. She nodded solemnly and hid a smile behind the hanky.

"Thanks, Willa," she said, sitting down in her chair.

"We're gonna be all right, you two," Rosie broke in, draping an arm across Ivy's shoulders. "Make us some tea, Willa, while Ivy and I get ready."

A teakettle floated from its resting-place near the hearth, landing in the sink for the house elf to fill.

"I've been gone too long," Ivy murmured, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. 

"I'll say," Rosie agreed, patting her hand. "Forgettin' Yorkshire pudding. And talkin' all funny like some kinda foreigner. Give me a week and I'll have ya talkin' like the girl that I remember."

"A week?" Ivy teased her. 

"Well," Rosie countered. "I could try a Reparo, but I'm not so sure it'd work. Pass the crumpets, will you?"

Ivy passed her friend a plate of crunchy crumpets from the center of the table, as the house elf served the tea. 


	3. Snape And Hagrid

Chapter Three

Snape and Hagrid 

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"Not... now!"

Professor Severus Snape slammed a glass-fronted cabinet door shut, silently fuming. He couldn't be out of aconite now. Much depended on the potion he was brewing, and it would be rendered useless without the main ingredient.

"Where...?" the question slipped through clenched teeth as the potions master checked and double-checked behind countless bottles and jars. Glass struck metal clamorously as his hands revealed his impatience. The other ingredients were only viable for a certain amount of time, and factoring in the time it took to brew... he had fifteen minutes until everything exploded in his face. 

He ticked off other possibilities in his head.

Diagon Alley. The shops there would be stocked with everything he'd need, and Knockturn Alley was very close, should he come up empty, but even if he Apparated, that would cost him too much time.

Hogsmeade. It was closest, but neither the joke shop or Honeyduke's carried potion ingredients of a darker nature. There was only one place, really, and the thought gave Snape a shudder of disgust.

"Madam Rosmerta." 

She fancied herself handy with the kind of concoctions he himself would never deal with. 

"Love potions and spring tonics," he sneered. But perhaps... 

With a snap of his fingers the potions master disappeared from his room, reappearing moments later on the front step of the Three Broomsticks.

"Aconite..."

Snape burst through the doors, greasy black hair plastered across his face. The girl reading behind the bar jumped to her feet, sending book and barstool to the floor.

"Where is Madam Rosmerta?" Snape scowled, watching the color drain nicely from her face.

"She's gone to London," the woman said, backing away.

Snape rounded the bar and began rummaging in the cabinets beneath it.

"Diagon Alley?"

"Yes. She ran out of some things and..."

"I don't need to know what's on her shopping list. I need to know where she keeps her aconite powder."

"Aconite?"

Snape turned a blistering look on the girl who, on second glance, was older than he'd first assumed. The freckles across her nose and the wide-eyed stare had thrown him off considerably.

"Who are you?" he muttered, turning back to his search before she had the time to answer.

"Ivy Ollivander," she offered. "I work for Rosie. I mean... Madam Rosmerta. She'll be back in a bit if you'll just..."

"I don't have time to wait. Ten minutes, tops. You say you work here. Why don't you know where things are?"

Ivy only stared at him for a moment, then fled toward the kitchen, calling someone's name.

Meanwhile, Snape resumed his hunt, turning things upside down in his search for aconite powder. Cabinet doors stood ajar, contents tipped over and spilling out. As he rummaged, three ornate pewter and glass flasks fell at his feet. Two rolled under the bar, one rolled in the other direction, its path blocked by a boot as big as a sizable tree trunk.

"What's goin' on here?" a voice boomed from somewhere high above Professor Snape's head. Snape straightened up and peered into the shaggy face of Hagrid. Had he been so intent on his quarry that the big lug had been able to sneak up on him?

"A...con...ite," he repeated to the giant in an ice-cold voice. "And unless you know where Rosmerta keeps hers you will do well to stay out... of... my... way."

"Aconite?" Hagrid repeated, bending over to pick up the metal flask at his feet. "What makes ya think you'll find it here?"

Snape groaned and strode toward the kitchen, black robe swirling in his wake. He didn't get far before he was stopped in his tracks by a poker-wielding house elf.

"You is not welcome in this kitchen," Willa told him. "You is belonging on the other side of the bar." Standing behind the house elf, Ivy brightened noticeably at the sight of a familiar face.

"G'day, Hagrid," she said.

"Ivy," Hagrid nodded. "Can you help the Perfesser here find some aconite powder? Seems to think Rosie might have some lyin' aroun'."

"I don't think he needs any help," she offered lamely. Ivy didn't know aconite from Iocaine, but would rather have died than shown them her ignorance.

Willa was quick to come to her rescue.

"Ivy is not knowin' where Madam Rosie keeps her potions. Ivy is new."

"You're not," came a voice that was muffled due to the fact that the head it spoke from was stuck deep inside a cupboard. Snape jerked his head out and glared at the elf.

Willa floundered, and Ivy alone knew what was at stake. She held her breath, waiting to see if the elf would choose loyalty to her mistress over covering for Ivy. 

"There," the house elf muttered finally. A long trembling finger pointed to a small cabinet above the sink. 

Snape pulled the doors open, gloating. "Lithofell... toad spleen... aconite. You there, come taste this. Is it aconite? The label's smeared."

Ivy's eyes widened and she shook her head, backing away from Snape until her hands felt the rough wall behind her.

"I'll take care a that, Perfesser," Hagrid cut in, wrapping huge fingers around the bottle. He held it up to the light, pretending to examine its contents, but what he pondered was the fear in Ivy's face.

Snape, noticeably calmer, gave Hagrid a funny look. "I wouldn't ask except it looks a lot like.."

"Parsofell?"

The whole group turned as one at the sound of Rosmerta's voice.

"May I ask what you are doing in my kitchen?" she asked. 

Ivy, Willa and the giant spoke the same word at once.

"Aconite."

"You've made my pub a shambles for aconite?" she questioned, turning in a slow circle to survey the destruction.

"He is the one what was makin' the mess," Willa informed, pointing at Snape and still shaking from her ordeal. "Willa is sorry for tellin' Madam Rosie. But Willa was afraid."

Across the room, Snape demanded the bottle from Hagrid's hand. "I am sorry that I cannot stay to finish this little... party," he told them. By now the entrails in his potion were probably infusing with the dragon blood. He had only moments to spare.

"Madam Rosmerta, may I speak with you privately for a moment?"

Rose nodded and accompanied him into the pub's outer room, while Ivy bent to embrace Willa.

"Thank you," she whispered into one over-sized ear, but the house elf was inconsolable.

"Told 'er secrets, Willa did. Willa is no good house elf." The little creature pulled away and disappeared into the root cellar, her tea towel dress flapping madly behind her. 

"You a'right there, Ivy?"

She stood and looked up at the giant. 

"Yes," she lied quietly. "Thanks for your help."

"Weren't nuthin'. I'm meetin' the man with the hippogriffs this mornin'. Thought I'd see if you ladies had anything lyin' aroun' for breakfast."

"Oh..." Ivy started, still shaken from her run in with the Professor. She'd forgotten all about the breakfast she'd planned on. A ham shoulder sat waiting on the counter, and porridge still bubbled patiently in its pot over the fire.

"Who _was _that?" Ivy asked, pushing herself into motion. Opening the one cabinet door that had gone untouched in Snape's assault, she took out a huge wooden bowl. Filling it with steaming porridge only took a moment.

"That's Perfesser Snape from up at Hogwarts. Must be gettin' a potion up fer summat."

"He's rude," Ivy stated, placing the bowl on the kitchen table, along with a plate of butter, bowl of sugar and shaker of salt. She pulled Hagrid's over-sized knife and spoon from their drawer, and set them by the food.

"He's a'right. Just a bit..."

"Different?" Ivy finished for him. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to throw a massive slab of ham into a pan on the stove.

Hagrid remained silent for a moment, then gave a funny grunt from deep in his throat. His raised eyebrows told her she'd picked the right word.

"Not bad," he offered, saluting her with a huge spoonful of thick gray porridge. He watched her work, and though she seemed comfortable enough in Rosie's kitchen, something nagged at the back of Hagrid's mind. Something was different, but he couldn't put his finger on what that difference might be.

"Thanks, Hagrid. At least I got that right." Ivy said. Taking his cue, she decided to change the subject. "I've never seen a hippogriff before. Only in pictures. And Muggle pictures at that. They're half bird, half horse, aren't they?"

Hagrid downed another spoonful. "Half _griffin_, half horse, yeah. Ya oughta come ta the station wi' me, then. Watch 'em come in. They're beau'iful beasts... very awesome to see." 

"Oh, I..." Ivy floundered at his invitation, caught off guard, as uncertainty wrestled with desire to glimpse the magical creatures. "I'd like to see them, but..."

"Can I ask you a question?" Hagrid stopped her. He leaned forward, beetle-black eyes shining bright, and looking quite conspiratorial.

Ivy's heart jumped to her throat, positive she'd been found out. His question was obvious and she didn't want to answer, but something in his gaze caused Ivy to nod her head anyway.

"What'er you afraid of?"

"Afraid?" she managed. "What makes you think I'm... afraid?"

"When Snape was here b'fore, ya had a look on yer face. I seen that look. Like a cornered rabbit lookin' up my crossbow." Hagrid's eyes glazed as he imagined hunts gone by. "Yup, seen it many times. Like lookin' into the face of yer doom. It's none a my business, a course. But it's why I offered to taste the powder fer ya."

"I... " Ivy stared at the giant, wanting more than anything to blurt out what she was hiding. His eyes were kind, and she felt as though he might understand. But in the end, habit won out, and she told the first lie that came to her head.

"I'm not familiar with the potion ingredients common around here, that's all. He caught me by surprise, and I didn't want him to know. I mean... I grew up somewhere else and..."

Hagrid held up a hand to stop her.

"Ya don't own me nuthin' more, Ivy. I just wanted to make sure you weren't scared like that 'round me. I can be a bit of a su'prise at first, but I mean no harm."

"No! No," Ivy assured him, thankful he'd bought her half-truth. "I... I was glad you were here. And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you that first night. At the door. It's just that... everything's new here. I've lived around Muggles, most of my life and _giants_, well..." she gave him as much of a smile as she could muster, stopping the flow of words that rushed from her mouth before she got herself into even more trouble. 

"I've read about hippogriffs. Muggles say they got their name from an ancient phrase meaning something is impossible. 'When gryffins mate with horses.' Nowadays we'd say something like, 'When pigs fly."

Hagrid grunted around his spoonful of porridge.

"When pigs fly."

"Yes! I used to teach mythology in college. And I'd really, _really_ like to see them. Think I could get back here in time for lunch?"

"A course!" Hagrid grinned, "Won't take long at all. You can leave a note fer Rosie."

"Ok then," Ivy said, feeling better. Hagrid's enthusiasm for magical beasts was infectious, and Ivy allowed his conversation to warm her like a beam of hope. He took her at face value, glad for someone with whom to share his insight, never realizing that acceptance was what Ivy needed most. The smell of ham filled the kitchen as she watched and listened, happy to have found another friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Say ya lived with Muggles mosta yer life?" Hagrid asked Ivy as they walked toward the train station. Recent rains had left the cobblestone streets wet and slippery, although the sky had begun to lighten in the promise of afternoon sun. 

"How'd that happ'n? If ya don't mind me askin'."

Ivy jumped a puddle in the middle of the street, then looked up at Hagrid.

"My father thought he could protect me from Voldemort that way," she answered simply. A private smile graced her lips as she congratulated herself on the truth of the statement. 

So great was Ivy's relief at not having to create another lie that she didn't notice Hagrid wince at the mention of the dark sorcerer's name. 

"But Voldemort's gone now, so I think I'll be safe."

Hagrid stopped dead in the middle of the street. Ivy skidded to a halt beside him.

"We don't say that name 'round here, Ivy," he told her. "Ya ain't bin here long enough ta know it, but you'll make more friends if ya quit flashin' it around."

"I..." Ivy bent over a little to catch her breath. "I didn't know." _I also didn't know it would be so hard to keep pace with a giant. _

" 'S why I'm tellin' ya," he said, resuming his walk. "Droppin' _that _name is a sure way ta put an end to friendly conversation."

"But what about the Potter boy?" she questioned, thankful to see Hogwarts station just a block away. "They say he killed Volde-- I mean... You-Know-Who."

"You mean Harry?" The giant's scruffy features lit up. "He'll be here tomorra with the rest a the kids. Comin' on that very train."

Hagrid pointed and Ivy followed the direction of his gesture. A black and crimson steam engine sat chugging at the station. Ivy could see people milling around the cars. Her mouth opened to ask Hagrid more about Harry Potter, but the giant had already started across the street, bent on nothing but hippogriffs. Figuring she'd lost the conversation anyway, she shut her mouth and jogged across the street, catching up just in time to hear Hagrid muttering something that sounded like "beau'iful, jus' beau'iful," over and over again.

~~~~~~

"You can't just walk up to a hippogriff," a short man in a stovepipe hat was saying. "You have to let them look you over first. And when you catch their attention, bow just so. It's a friendly salutation. Only approach if he bends a knee in return."

"Tha's very important," Hagrid bent to mutter in Ivy's ear. "Whatever ya do, don't ferget that. Hippogriffs can be dangerous if not approached jus' so."

Ivy nodded, watching enthralled as the man in the stovepipe hat led the first one off the train. It was cinnamon colored, with a nobly arched neck and flashing amber eyes. The others came off one by one: grays and a black, chestnuts and strawberry roans. Ivy counted nearly a dozen. They were stately creatures, almost arrogant, but not quite. Ivy could see a certain kindness in their eyes, an intelligence that took in all their surroundings. Their enormity soon crowded the platform, and she knew they would have to be moved quickly to wherever Hagrid planned to keep them. 

Engrossed in the way sunlight shimmered off feather and fur, Ivy didn't realize that she'd retreated, hiding herself behind Hagrid's great frame. Not until she looked down and saw a fistful of his waistcoat in her hands. 

"Nuthin' ta be scared of," the giant reassured her. "I was hopin' ya might ride one over ta Hogwarts. Save us a trip."

Ivy's eyes widened in utter disbelief. The phrase 'When pigs fly' clung to the very tip of her tongue. 

"No, Hagrid. No _way_.... There is no way I'm getting on that... that..." 

"They're gentle as kittens once ya get acquainted," he insisted. 

Ivy clutched her stomach and backed away, feeling as though he'd let 5 pound butterflies loose within her. No matter what Hagrid said, they didn't look a thing like kittens. The back half, the _horse_ half, was comfortingly familiar, but it took a while to get used to the front half. That half was more like a giant-sized eagle, covered in feathers and sporting a cruel looking steel gray beak. The forelegs that ended in deadly sharp talons clicked menacingly on the train station's platform.

"It's why I brought ya down here," Hagrid cajoled, mustache twitching to cover a grin. "I could really use the help."

"Well... I thought you were trying to be friendly," Ivy informed him. "Do you know the stories I've read about these things? They fly off with their riders -- never to be seen again. I can't. I'm not ready for that Hagrid."

"Why sure ya are," he promised with a wink. "Ya just don't know it yet."

With that the giant stepped aside and Ivy was forced to stand face to face with the cinnamon colored hippogriff.

"Jus' bow, Ivy. Look it in the eye and _bend yer knee_."

"Hagrid. I don't want --"

"Shhhhhh!" the giant said, waving her forward. "Yer makin' it nervous." His tone left no room for backing out. "If a hippogriff ever rode off wi' its rider it was 'cuz they didn't wait fer a welcome. Jus' take it slow an' easy."

Ivy turned a look of resignation on the beast as it locked its haughty gaze upon her. It was either bow or the hippogriff would take her head off. And by the looks of its glowing beak Ivy had no doubt the creature could do it. A flash of irritation touched her as she realized she'd been set up, but in the end she did as instructed, performing a neat curtsy before the beast. After that there was no time for anger, although her heart did a somersault when the thought crossed her mind that maybe hippogriffs _ate_ people who were not magical, instead of giving them rides.

Fear dissolved into wonder as the beast returned her bow, then stretched out its neck in what even a Muggle would have known as a plea to be petted.

"See there. I tole ya. She likes ya jus' fine. Scratch 'er fer a minute and she'll give ya a ride."

Ivy was no longer listening. Tears shone unshed in her eyes as she buried her hands in the hippogriff's satin softness. She smoothed the feathers along its neck, eyes never leaving its face, except when she closed them to whisper "beautiful, just beautiful."

Mounting the beast was a blur, but before she knew it, Ivy'd settled in just behind the hippogriff's wings.

"Circle Hogsmeade a couple a times, if ya want" Hagrid instructed. "I'll take these and O'Brien here'll bring up a couple. We'll have to come back fer the rest. Keep us in sight an' you'll have no trouble findin' the castle." 

Ivy nodded, but had no time to see if Hagrid acknowledged. The cinnamon hippogriff - whom O'Brien called Gingerfoot - rose eagerly into the air. Ivy leaned into the rocking chair motion of flapping wings and pumping hooves and then they were away, lifting ever higher over Hogsmeade. The thought that she could possibly miss the castle struck her as funny, as the entire panorama of castle and village opened up before her. 

She and Gingerfoot flew the length of Hogsmeade, then turned back, the hippogriff rising in ever-widening circles until thatched roofs became mere specks below them. The air thinned considerably as they rose higher, and Ivy began to feel giddy.

"I'm getting dizzy!" she shouted into the wind. Gingerfoot gave an ear-splitting screech and rose higher, then circled into a thousand-foot dive. Ivy screamed the whole length of the drop, but somewhere in between looking down on the clouds and torpedoing through them, the scream changed from fear into delight. A surge of adrenaline swept through Ivy, and she began to think that maybe pigs _could_ fly, after all.

After sweeping the length and breadth of Hogsmeade a few times Gingerfoot changed directions, flying low over the still plodding forms of Hagrid, O'Brien and several hippogriffs.. A cool breeze wafted over the airborne animal and its rider as they skimmed the surface of the lake at Hogwarts. 

Ivy closed her eyes, knowing with a touch of sadness that the ride was nearly over. The beast landed not far from a paddock where the other hippogriffs were being freed from their collars and chains. She felt strong hands encircle her waist as Hagrid helped to bring her back to earth, although one look in Ivy's direction made it obvious that her heart was till soaring in the sky. She tried to speak, but both voice and legs betrayed her. She tipped dangerously, and only Hagrid's firm support enabled her to stand. 

The realization that she must look a sight slowly stole over Ivy as she caught Hagrid's openly curious gaze. Not only was her hair freed of its usual bonds, it was teased and tangled by the wind until it stood out from her head in all directions. Her eyes blazed with a newly-lit spark that had not been there upon her first timid approach toward the hippogriff, and the first thing she did when finally able to trust her legs again was dash forward to throw her arms around Gingerfoot's neck. The cinnamon colored beast screeched softly and pressed her beak against Ivy's flushed-red cheek.

"Made a friend, there," Hagrid commented as he busied himself getting the hippogriffs settled. Ivy pulled away from Gingerfoot and nodded, eyes still dreamy and full of clouds. She gazed up into the open sky, knowing that it would never look the same to her again.

"Are there any more to bring up from the station?" she asked, in a voice still hoarse from screaming. She attempted to smooth her hair down, but only succeeded in getting her fingers painfully tangled. 

"Nah," Hagrid said. "O'Brien's a'ready back wi' the las' of 'em." Busy with tethering chains and collars, the giant didn't see Ivy's crestfallen look.

"Oh," she muttered, gripping the fence. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward Hogsmeade.

"I'll take ya back if yer ready," Hagrid offered. He turned to face her, leaning against the opposite side of the fence.

"Thanks, Hagrid." Ivy returned.

"T'wern't nuthin', really. Ya helped me out of a tight spot with the critters. Don't think I coulda handled more than 6 er 7 at once."

"What I meant was... thanks for the ride," Ivy explained, face reddening as she held his gaze.

"It was..." slowly she allowed herself to breathe the word. 

"Magic."

Suddenly the patterns in the wooden fence became very interesting to the giant. He dropped her gaze and studied them carefully for a long time, until Ivy sighed and stepped away, reaching up once more in an attempt to smooth down her hair.

"Ya did me a favor Ivy. Won't ferget that." Hagrid said carefully. Then he walked through the gate and they started back toward Hogsmeade, Ivy still trying to tame down her hair.

"Leave it," Hagrid said, giving her a pat on the back that nearly sent her sprawling.

"It works fer ya."

Ivy laughed out loud, the noise echoing merrily off the lake. It was a good sound, open and full of possibility, and Ivy resolved then and there to use it more often.


	4. Buckbeak And Norbert

Chapter Four

Buckbeak and Norbert

"There you are!" Rosie met Ivy and Hagrid at the Three Broomstick's front door. The look of worry on her face soon gave way to one of confusion, and then amazement as Rose put two-and-two together.

"No...." she said, backing into the pub to give the others room to enter. "Now don't even try to tell me that was you zoomin' over town a while ago. I won't believe it." Reaching out, she tried to straighten out some of Ivy's hair. Ivy gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.

"And you..." Rose dropped her hand and turned an accusing eye on Hagrid.

"Don't you go thinkin' you can have my help whenever you need her. She's workin' at the pub, not as assistant to the Care of Magical Creatures professor.

Ivy grinned and Rose couldn't help but notice.

"You've been drinkin' his mead too, haven't you?"

"No," Ivy insisted. She took a seat in the nearest chair, still a bit unsteady on her feet. "I haven't been drinking anything. Except the clouds. There's still time to get ready, and riding the hippogriff was..." She stole a happy glance at Hagrid.

"Amazing. You can count on my help anytime Hagrid, just so long as I can get back in time to serve tea."

"So you're trying to tell me that riding that beast was your idea, Ivy? Not his?"

"Well, I..." For a moment Ivy sounded like her old timid self, but Hagrid jumped in to save her.

"She needed a break after that ruckus wi' Snape this mornin', is all. I thought she could use a lift."

Ivy snickered at his pun. "Yeah. He's quite a piece of work. Where did he magic you off to, anyway?"

Rose left the group and strode back behind the bar. "I was helpin' out with a potion."

Reaching under the bar, she produced Hagrid's bucket-sized tankard. 

"You want a drink?" she asked in an obvious ploy to change the subject.

Hagrid shook his shaggy head. "Gotta go get ready. Firs' class in the mornin'. May come and celebrate wi' dinner tomorra night though." He hooked his thumbs into the belt buckled around his middle.

"Thanks again fer yer help, Miss Ivy," he intoned, bowing formally in a gesture that belied his raised eyebrow and twitching moustache. He turned toward the door, but Ivy rose to stop him.

"Thank _you_, Hagrid. For everything."

Hagrid grunted and gave her a nod, then he was gone. And only Rose noticed Ivy sidestepping across the room to watch out the window as he lumbered down the street.

"Was it that bad, then?" Rose asked from her place behind the bar.

Ivy turned and gave her a quizzical look.

"Professor Snape?" Rose prompted. "Willa's still upset. I thought you would be too."

"He scared me outa my skin," Ivy admitted, grinning as she crossed the floor to stand at the bar.

"Hagrid saved me, though. And Willa. I wasn't sure if she'd help me, but she did. Magnificently."

"I talked to Willa," Rose said, heading toward the kitchen. "Tried to convince her she did the right thing. She said she understood that loyalty to you was the same as loyalty to me, but look..."

She beckoned Ivy into the kitchen where every dish and utensil Rosie owned was either floating neatly in mid-air or being polished madly by the house elf. Food bubbled on the stove, in the big black cauldron and on top of the fire in the fireplace. The floors and windows gleamed with a polished glow and Ivy could only guess how hard the elf had been working to regain the favor of her mistress.

Ivy started toward her, but Rosie's hand on her arm caused her to stop.

"I'd send Snape a Howler, but I can't complain, really. What with his clean up spell and Willa's obsessive cooking..."

"I'd like to send him a Howler," Ivy cut off her musings, while pulling Willa's already-polished items down out of their flotation pattern.

"What did he want anyway? Never mind, I remember. Aconite." Ivy made a distinctly Snape-ish face to accent her last word.

"He's helping a friend," was all that Rosie offered. "And I may as well tell you that I'm going to be helping him on it occasionally. And no one's to know. But since I am currently keeping your secrets, I think I can trust you with mine."

"I wouldn't tell," Ivy started, studying her friend. "What are you doing?"

"Can't get into that now," Rose said. "We have a customer. And the less you know, the better. Let's get to work, then. Things'll get quite interesting once the school year's started. Hogwarts weekends. Now they _always_ prove to be interesting."

Ivy followed Rose, intrigued, wondering just what 'Hogwarts Weekends' might contain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hagrid made good on his promise to visit the pub a few days later, but not for celebrating.

Ivy filled and refilled his massive tankard until she lost count of her trips across the room. He'd come in full of worry, but time and mead soon turned worry to dread, and dread to certainty that one of his hippogriffs was soon to be put to death by order of the Ministry of Magic.

Buckbeak, the gray, had slashed a boy's arm, and his parents were howling for the animal's execution.

"Not suited fer this job." Hagrid told his tankard, as Ivy set a bowl of stew in front of him. The pub was almost empty and Rose had waved her over to the bar with instructions to get the giant to stop drinking and eat some solid food.

"Why not?" Ivy asked in her not-quite-American accent.

"What if the creature'd took 'is head off? It'd be my head on the choppin' block then - right beside Buckbeak's."

"Nobody's head came off," Ivy reminded, taking a seat across the table. "And you said yourself that the boy didn't approach him properly. It wasn't Buckbeak's fault. Or yours. Now eat some stew. And give me that tankard. I'm dumping it outside."

Hagrid's hand tightened reflexively around the handle. 

Ivy cocked her head and gave him a piercing look. "Alright, keep it. But stop thinking less of yourself for something that's out of your hands."

"Fact is, _Ivy_," Hagrid muttered, wagging his head defensively. "_I _brought the hippogriffs to Hogwarts. _I _let the students into the paddock. _I_ was their teacher and one of 'em got hurt. I'm respons'ble. It ain't the firs' time I done summat stupid. Won' be the last by the look a things. Now go about yer bus'ness. It's none a yer concern."

Ivy sat back in her chair and gave him a look of amazement. She hadn't expected him to blow up on her, but now that he had, it only made her more determined to get her point through his thick skull.

"Was it stupid to ask me to ride Gingerfoot?" she asked. "Because I don't think so. That ride gave me courage, and you knew it would. So you pushed me to do something I thought I couldn't do. And I'm a better person for it. You're _not _stupid, Hagrid. And don't say that again where I can hear."

Hagrid only snorted into his mead. 

"Maybe the Ministry will let Buckbeak go. If you tell them he won't be staying at Hogwarts anymore. I could ride him somewhere safe, wherever they decide. I wouldn't mind. And even if they won't listen, we could come up with a plan..."

"Hol' it right there," Hagrid stopped her. "I ain't draggin' you into any a my messes. I'll abide by what the Ministry decides. I said goodbye ta other critters, I can do it again." With that his head disappeared as he brought the tankard to his mouth. He hid behind it a very long time, then slammed it down on the table with a bang.

"I got rid a Norbert," he sniffed. "Sent him off ta be wi' his own kind. That was the hardest thing I ever had ta do. I can handle this. I'll be there fer Buckbeak, no matter what they decide."

"Who's Norbert?" Ivy asked, hoping a change of subject would lighten up the conversation.

"A dragon I had once. Raised 'im from an egg, I did. Couldn' keep 'im though. Was a bad idea from the start. A _stupid_ idea, keepin' a dragon at a school. He's better of wi' 'is own kind anyway. That's the natural way a' things."

"What's the natural way of things?" Ivy pressed him.

"Everythin's better off wi' its own kind. It's Nature's way a doin' things, and it's the _best_ way. I was stupid not ta see that. Tryin' ta keep a dragon." He snorted again, but Ivy was relieved to see him pick up a spoon and shovel a scoop of stew into his mouth. Hopefully food would clear his head enough to get him back home safely.

Hagrid closed his eyes tight, but tears still leaked from their corners as he silently chewed on his stew.

"Not necessarily," Ivy ventured quietly. Her hands bunched into fists only inches from Hagrid's, as she thought back on the loneliness she'd felt all her life because her father thought along the same lines as the giant. "If it's true, then why are you so sad?"

"I miss im' is all. A'ways wanted a dragon. Couldn't look past that ta see he wouldn' be happy wi' me. Needed more space. A place ta fly free. Not to mention it's against the law, keepin' dragons."

"Was he happy while he was with you?" Ivy asked.

"Why sure he was! I fed 'im and made 'im toys ta play with. We had good times tagether, Norbert an' me. He jus' got big too fas'. I couldn't keep 'im."

"But you don't know if he was happier with his own kind. Better off maybe. But not happier. The two are not the same. I'm sorry you lost Norbert, Hagrid." With that Ivy stood and walked toward the bar, unwilling to allow anyone to see the sadness in her own face, and reluctant to hide behind a pint of mead. The noise of a chair scraping the floor and heavy footsteps behind her told Ivy that Hagrid had followed.

"What is it, Ivy?" he asked. "I didn' mean to be ugly. Too much mead. I'm sor-"

He stopped in his tracks as she turned around, tears shining bright on her sun-freckled cheeks.

"It wasn't you, Hagrid," she told him, wiping her face with her hands. "It's just... what you said before. It's not true. I won't believe it. We're not alwaysbetter off with our own kind. We're better off where we're happiest. And the longer I'm here the more positive I am that _that's_ what's true. It may be harder, and it takes more faith, but all of that's worth it in the end. Now, I apologize for getting emotional. And you better get yourself home soon, or tomorrow's classes will be even harder than today's. Whatever happens with Buckbeak, you being with him will be great comfort. It's good to have a special friend when things are looking bleak." With that she gave him a watery smile and crossed the pub to clear off his table.

Ivy's smile grew wider as she felt a heavy hand upon her shoulder. 

"Yer right, Ivy," Hagrid agreed. "I know I wouldn' be better off wi' giants. I'm happiest at Hogwarts. It's where I belong. Thanks fer the reminder." He bent low at the waist and kissed her cheek, and the scruffy softness of his beard on her skin gave Ivy a warm sense of comfort and peace. She surprised herself by leaning into his embrace.

"Now," he said gruffly, covering his momentary lapse into emotionalism with a short coughing spell. "I best be gettin' home. It's late. G'night ladies." He fished a few coins out of his vest pocket and laid them on his table, took his coat off its hook by the door, and disappeared into the night.

Ivy straightened up what she could, knowing that Willa would have the dishes and cooking pots shining with a clean-up spell before she could climb the stairs and crawl into her bed.

"Night Ivy," Rose said, watching in amusement as her young friend mounted the stairs. 

"Night, Rose." Ivy returned, attempting a tired smile in Rosie's direction. Talking to Hagrid had saddened her and she wanted nothing more than to hide beneath blankets and pillow.

She'd nearly reached the second floor when Professor Snape breezed into the pub. His presence made her want to run the rest of the way upstairs, but something made Ivy stop and turn back. She couldn't hear what he said, but the way he leaned over the bar, gripping it with both hands, made whatever message he brought look urgent. Ivy watched as Rose beckoned Willa, then left the pub with Snape.   
  
"Guess she won't be getting to bed anytime soon," Ivy whispered, resuming her trip up the stairs. She changed into her nightclothes and stretched out across the bed, fingers tracing gently across the place where Hagrid had kissed her cheek. The next thing she knew, morning was stealing in through the windows, and Rosmerta's bed lay untouched and empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ivy awoke a second time Rose was sitting on the edge of her bed, still dressed in last night's robes and intent on watching her best friend sleep. When she saw Ivy open her eyes, she reached a hand across the gap between their beds, and Ivy reached over and took it.

"What is it?" Ivy started. "I was getting worried."

"You looked worried," Rose gave her a weary smile. "Do you always drool like that when you're worried?" 

"Do you always stay out all night without telling your friends?" 

"Ivy," Rose said, standing to her feet. She crossed to gaze out of one of the room's two windows. Like everything else in Hogsmeade, the panes were not quite centered, but as Ivy watched her friend, the crookedness no longer mattered. She realized at that moment that the off-centeredness of everything around her only served to further endear the place to her heart.

"It wasn't something I planned. I'm sorry I made you worry." 

"That Snape fellow _worries_ me," Ivy informed her. "He's very unfriendly."

Rose snorted at Ivy's astute assessment. "Don't you worry about Snape. But there is something _I'm_ worried about... I need you to promise me something, Ivy. The streets of Hogsmeade aren't safe for you at night anymore. At least for a little while. There are dementors patrolling at sundown. So... don't go wandering off without letting me or Willa know it, all right?"

Ivy sat up, pushing tousled curls away from her face. "Dementors? Why?" She'd never seen one of the wizard prison's demon guards, but she knew their reputation. 

"Someone very dangerous has escaped from Azkaban. They want their prisoner back, and they think he might show up here."

"Why here?" Ivy wondered aloud. She couldn't fathom how anything as depraved as a dementor would have anything to do with an idyllic place like Hogsmeade. 

"Not here, exactly. Up there, at Hogwarts. The man who escaped may be after one of the students. That's all I know and it's more than anybody around here has heard, yet. I was up at Hogwarts all night, working on something for a friend. I heard it from the Headmaster himself. He's very upset about it, but there's not much he can do. It's Ministry of Magic business. I don't know if you can see dementors or not Ivy, but you don't have to be magical to feel them when they're close. They're foul, soulless beings, and I don't want one anywhere near you. We can only hope they capture their prisoner in a hurry. Will you promise? No traipsing off again?"

"Again?" Ivy protested. "I only wandered off once, and I was accompanied by a giant..." 

"And you let him talk you into riding a hippogriff!" Rose countered, teasing gently. "Hagrid's got a talent for coming up with dangerous creatures, Ivy. Creatures with venom. And talons and fangs. You have to be more careful." 

"I trust Hagrid," Ivy said, her chin uplifted stubbornly. "He wouldn't let anything hurt me." 

Rose laughed. "I saw that little peck on the cheek, last night, dearie. You're not falling for him are y-" 

Rose's last comment was cut decidedly short as a pillow flew across the room and hit her in the face. She cried out in mock outrage and reached for a weapon of her own.

Moments later feathers and laughter filled the room to capacity and began their escape, both managing to flutter down the stairs and through cracks in the rafters to make their presence known on the ground floor. In the end, Ivy promised not to wander off without telling. Rose cast a Reparo spell on the pillows, then decided on a nap before tea.

Hard as Ivy tried, she couldn't see or imagine any soulless creatures walking the streets of Hogsmeade in the morning sun. As she gazed out the mullioned windows, the thatch-roofed cottages and shops along High Street looked as inviting as ever. Even the pub seemed infused with gold. Every now and then she'd catch sight of a feather floating across the room on a sunbeam and grin. Full of peace, and quite content to be doing nothing more, Ivy began to polish the bar. The pub would be busy later, but for now, she decided to be grateful for the quiet.


	5. Dementors

Chapter Five

Dementors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Willa!" Ivy called from the back of the kitchen. "I'm taking out the garbage. There's a Yorkshire pudding in the oven and-"

"Willa will see to it," the house elf said, emerging from her place in the root cellar. She took a potholder that seemed ridiculously large in her tiny, fragile-looking hands, and peered into the oven. 

"Willa still remembers how to cook," she muttered, as Ivy turned back to the task at hand.

She'd gathered the day's worth of rubbish, nearly three cans full, and by the look of it, she'd be making at least two trips. Once again she wished for the power to whip up a nice levitation spell.

Picking up the container nearest the door, Ivy pushed it into the back alley. It was nearing dusk, and a thick mist hovered over Hogsmeade. The streets were empty, and Ivy knew the pub would soon be, too. Business was off in the evenings of late. Nobody wanted to run the risk of encountering a dementor, especially after dark.

Ivy dumped the first container's contents into the rubbish bin, then dusted off her hands. A noise to her right startled her and she backed toward the door, the golden slice of light that splashed across the stairs beckoning her to safety.

The sound came again. A low whine, so sad that Ivy peered into the darkness to determine where it came from.

An enormous and shaggy black dog padded out of the shadows then, wagging its tail and looking incredibly thin. It sniffed the rubbish bin, then turned its black eyes on Ivy.

"Oh poor thing!" Ivy said, forgetting the safety of the back step and approaching carefully. The dog seemed friendly enough, and its tail wagged even harder as she came near. She reached out to pat its massive head.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Ivy asked as she scratched the bear-sized creature behind his ear. She crouched beside it, running gentle hands along its back. The dog sighed at her touch and leaned heavily against her knees, and Ivy got the distinct impression that it had been far too long since he'd been petted. 

"You're only skin and bones," Ivy whispered sorrowfully. "Stay right here and I'll find something that'll interest you." 

She rose and went back inside, emerging momentarily with another can of garbage. Without so much as a wrinkle of her nose, Ivy began picking through the trash, the dog's hopeful whine urging her on.

"Oh look.... a juicy hambone. You'll like that, won't you? If I would have known you were coming, I could've left you a little more ham. I promise I will next time, though."

She presented the bone to the dog, who took it from her most respectfully. Ivy even imagined that he looked a little embarrassed for having to beg in the first place.

"Come back tomorrow and I'll have more," she promised as the dog retreated into the shadows. She watched the place where he disappeared for a moment, but when it became apparent that he had gone, she turned back to her original purpose.

"Poor doggy," she whispered into the darkness. Sadness engulfed her as she wondered where it had been and how long it had gone hungry. Doubts began to fill her head. Perhaps her offering wasn't enough. Maybe the dog was too far gone and even a hefty dinner of steak-and-kidney pie would have come too late. 

The more she pondered, the worse the situation looked. Suddenly she knew that ham would be too hard on its stomach, and the poor dog would be dead by morning.

Ivy raised an arm to wipe her forehead. A cold breeze whipped down the alley as she dumped the last of the trash, rescuing a pheasant carcass as it slid by, and placing it on the ground.

"Breakfast," she said, hunching over the carcass. She headed toward the steps, stopping in her tracks as she noticed the form of a man emerging from the misty shadows. He was coming straight for her, and dread filled Ivy's heart as she watched him draw close. 

"Father..?" she mumbled, envisioning a portly man with cold gray eyes. He'd come for her. Come to take her home, then ship her far away again. This time he'd forbid her return. 

This time he'd tell her the suspicion he'd been hiding in his heart for all those years. He'd sent her off with a vengeance the second time, to a place on the other side of the world. All because of the hatred he harbored in his heart. Because he believed that she'd been responsible for her mother's death. Elana. The only one who'd ever truly loved her, even if she was... if she was only...

"Ivy!"

Ivy gasped as the man she'd seen in the alley transformed from her father into someone else. Remus Lupin hovered over her, pressing something into her hand that looked a lot like chocolate. There was a flash of bright white light and Lupin embraced her, pulling her back into the kitchen.

Once in the light, Ivy turned a tear-stained face on her rescuer. She didn't understand what he'd rescued her from, but now that the foul presence was gone, she _knew_ she'd been rescued. 

"Professor Lupin," she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"Ivy, are you alright?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek. He held her gaze firmly until she answered.

A plaintive 'No!' welled up inside her, but she clamped her mouth shut before it could escape. She hadn't felt so hopeless or alone since her father had shipped her off to Australia. Despair lingered like a black wreath around her head and tears filled her eyes once more as she turned a frightened glance toward the door.

"Here, sit down," Professor Lupin instructed. "And eat that chocolate. I'll go find Rose." 

But Rose was already on her way into the kitchen.

"Ivy!" she sputtered, rushing to her friend's side. "Remus, what on earth?" 

"Dementors," Lupin said. His eyes darted toward the back door. "I was walking to the pub when I saw Ivy dumping the rubbish. Then this big black dementor was... was _feeding_ on her, Rosie. I chased it off. And I'm trying to get her to eat some chocolate, but she's..."

Ivy was slumped over the table, covering her head with her hands as if still warding off some evil foe.

"How did it know?" she whispered over and over again. "I didn't mean to... I would have never..."

"Ivy!" Rose took Ivy by the shoulders and gave her a shake. "Eat the chocolate Remus gave you, love. Come one now. Take a bite. Just a little."

Ivy obediently complied, taking a bite of the candy the wizard had shoved into her hand. A calm, soothing feeling enveloped her, along with the faintest glimmer of hope.

"How did it know?" she murmured again.

"Know what, Ivy? What are you saying?" Remus asked, bending down on one knee before her.

"That Thing out there knew that my father thinks I killed my mother."

Rose let out a low growl of anger and disappeared out the back door.

Remus gave Ivy his most encouraging smile. "No, Ivy. That thing only knows how to stir up your worst nightmares. I doubt your father could ever think such a thing."

"But he thinks it. He told me so. He was... he was right outside... He..."

"Was me," Lupin assured her, taking both her hands in his. "That was me outside Ivy, not your father. And the dementor is gone. Here."

He handed her a second chunk of chocolate, this one as big as her fist.

"Now I want you to eat this, and eat it all. No more talking till you do."

"Rose was right then," Ivy muttered between bites. The chocolate made her feel as though someone had just covered her with a fire-warmed blanket on a cold, damp day. "I couldn't see-"

"Ivy is needing some of Willa's hot cocoa!" came a voice from Ivy's side. The house elf placed a huge mug in front of Ivy and gave the girl a meaningful look. 

"You bees quiet and drink this up. No more talkin'." 

"Where's Rose?" Ivy asked quietly so as not to incur Willa's wrath. She understood that Willa was trying her best to keep Ivy's lack of magical power a secret, but she also knew that she'd have no problem trusting Lupin with the knowledge. He'd just saved her life, and Ivy wasn't interested in keeping secrets anymore.

"She went out back to make sure that all the dementors are gone."

"Do they do that up at the school, Professor? Can they... I mean... they can't hurt the little kids, can they?"

"Not as long as Professor Dumbledore's around," he assured her gently. "He's been very vigilant about keeping them away from the students. He's not happy at all that they're anywhere near Hogwarts, and neither am I."

"It seems very drastic. I mean, I wouldn't want a child of mine to ever..." Tears welled up in her eyes again, and Remus tapped the chocolate with a raised eyebrow. 

"We all want them gone," Rose's voice came from the doorway, where she was taking off her coat. "They 're killin' my business, I can tell ya that right off." 

Ivy stared at her friend. She looked beautiful, standing in the doorway, her face flushed with indignation. Ivy looked at Lupin, just to see if he'd noticed, taking a bite of chocolate to cover a smile. Lupin was not blind; he'd noticed. And when he caught Ivy watching him his face turned red. 

"What I don't understand is... why didn't you run?" he asked innocently enough, but Ivy knew that he was trying to get attention focused on her, and not on himself. 

"I guess I just didn't notice it," Ivy said, with a tinge of sadness. How tired she was of having to lie. 

"I took out the trash, and there was this really big black dog... It was hungry, and I was busy trying to find it some scraps, and then..." she shrugged, determined not to say another word. She refused to lie to Lupin, and the look in her eyes forbade the others from doing so as well.

"A black dog, you say?" Lupin asked, suddenly very interested. "Was he a shorthair, or shaggy?" 

"Shaggy. And huge. But very friendly... And hungry. I felt sorry for it."

"A Grim, Remus?" Rose asked, anxious little wrinkles appearing across her forehead.

"A stray," Ivy stated, popping more chocolate into her mouth. "He was sad, and thin, not spectral. Or even remotely scary." Once again she saw the dog's dark eyes gazing up at her. 

"Couldn't have been an omen of death. He was far too hungry."

"Even so, you've got to be careful," Remus said, a sudden strangled sound in his throat. "If you see this dog again, Ivy... You've got to promise me you'll leave it alone."

Ivy contemplated Lupin. "It was just a stray. I can't stand by and watch it starve to death in our back alley. I won't."

"Ivy!" Rose chided gently. "Remus knows more about these things than you do. If he's worried about the dog, then leave it alone. Please?"

Ivy looked from Rose to Remus, then back to Rose again. "Alright, I give up. You win. I'll stay away from the dog." A twinge of guilt stabbed her as the words tumbled out of her mouth. 

"Good girl," Remus smiled. His pale face lost a trace of its worry, and Ivy noticed for the first time that he had quite pleasant features. There was a weariness in his eyes that only made her wonder at the secrets he hid there. Her reverie was broken as he patted her hand and stood to his feet. 

"I know it's late, but I was wondering if a fellow might still be able to get a bit of refreshment here tonight. I've been working hard of late. Thought I could use a bit of fresh air."

Ivy pushed her chair back and stood up, but Rose beat her to the bar. 

"Name your poison, Professor," she winked. 

"Just... a butterbeer," Lupin sighed, wiping a tired hand across his face. "And give me a few bottles of that to go would you? I'm doing a bit of extra curricular study with one of the students. It's not going as easily as I'd hoped."

He left an hour later, pleasantly warmed by butterbeer, but only after extracting one more promise from Ivy to leave the shaggy dog to its own devices. The two women watched him leave, and Rose locked the oaken door behind him.

"I feel kinda sorry for Professor Lupin," Ivy sighed as they started up to bed. "There's something about him..."

Rose smiled, and Ivy got the suspicion that there was a whole lot more behind her grin than she was letting on. 

"You like him, don't you?" Ivy pushed, grabbing Rose's arm. "Come, on Rosie... tell me. Is he the one you've been running off to see at Hogwarts? The reason you stay gone all night?"

No matter how she pried, Rose would only smile and shake her head mysteriously. She seemed to enjoy keeping her secrets to herself. Nothing Ivy tried would convince her to tell the truth. Ivy went to sleep that night wondering again just what her lovely friend was hiding. 


	6. Hogwart's Weekends

Ivy broke her promise to Lupin three days later. She went for a walk after breakfast, ending up on a rocky crag on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The place wasn't new to her. She'd spied it while clinging madly to the back of Gingerfoot the hippogriff; a small clearing, less than half a mile east of town. A huge dead tree stood sentinel across the street, just at the edge of the forest. The tree itself was rather remarkable; its limbs twisted and bent as if by some gigantic hand. Ivy supposed it to be at least two or three hundred years old. 

The other thing that drew her attention was the colony of vultures that lived among the gnarled branches. They spent lazy days like this making slow, effortless circles over Hogsmeade and the moors that surrounded it. When they weren't circling, they rested, wings hunched like great, malformed shoulders, watching... always watching for some unlucky prey to happen by. They fascinated Ivy, with their dark vigilance. She wondered if maybe the dementors from Azkaban prison were their almost-human counter-parts. Thoughts of dementors made Ivy shudder, and she forgot all about her promise not to encourage the stray she'd seen in the alley, when he happened to come upon her.

"There you are, Blackie," she called, as he trotted up to where she was sitting. His tail wagged furiously as he snuffled her hands, but she'd come unprepared for his visit.

"I didn't know you'd be here," she told him, burying her face against his shaggy black neck

"Sheww, doggy," she muttered. "You could really use a bath."

The dog whined in commiseration, then flopped down heavily beside her. She was busy giving him a good scratch on the back when she remembered her promise.

"I'm not supposed to be seen with you, you know," she informed conspiratorially. "Rose and Remus both made me promise." But his company warmed her, and she didn't want to have to shoo him away. She sank back against the sun-warmed rocks, taking in the last of autumn's golden glow. Fall was almost over. Soon it would be Halloween, then Christmas. 

"You know," she told the dog, who was half-asleep. "I didn't think I'd last this long in Hogsmeade. I was pretty sure my dad would find me the first week or two. I know it's only been two months, but he hasn't discovered me yet. Maybe I'm safe."

The dog's tail thumped the rocks lazily, scattering pebbles left and right. Ivy sighed and changed positions. Using the dog's broad back for a pillow, she turned her attention to her surroundings.

From where she reclined she could look across the lane and see a bubbling stream running nearly parallel with High Street. To her right, the road led away to the east. There was a wooden bridge across the stream nearly half a mile down that way. It connected the road to a path that led off into the forest. Not far to her left another path trailed off in a north-westerly direction. This path disappeared into the forest as well, and Ivy figured that the two probably met somewhere in the depths of the woods. The Forbidden Forest. She couldn't go in there. At least until the dementors were gone. She figured they might hang around in the depths of those woods somewhere, if dementors took time off, and she'd already had her suspicions about the vulture tree being their favorite hang out. That was enough to keep her out of the woods, even though its fall colors beckoned.

The dog beside her scratched at a flea, breaking Ivy out of her thoughts.

"I wish I'd have known you were coming," she whispered sadly, giving the soft spot behind his ear a scratch. "I could have brought you a feast. Come down to the pub tonight and I'll slip you a ham bone." 

The dog, who was christened 'Blackie' now and forever in Ivy's mind, gave a low whine in return. They sat together on the rocks in a companionable silence for nearly two hours before Ivy realized she'd best be getting back to the pub. 

"Remember," she told the dog, taking his big head in both her hands and giving it a friendly shake. "Come to the pub when it gets dark and I'll feed ya. Can't let you starve out here. It'll be getting cold soon. You're going to have to store up a little fat for winter."

That last comment caused the dog to bark, and Ivy shushed him up quickly.

"I'm not supposed to be seen with you remember? Professor Lupin acted like you could be an axe murderer, or something. We're going to have to keep this relationship secret, if you want me to keep the ham bones coming."

The dog woofed more quietly then, and snuffled his nose into Ivy's hair. He placed a great shaggy paw on her knee for a minute, looking earnestly into her eyes in that way that only dogs can do, then bounded off the rocks and into the forest. Ivy grinned and turned herself back toward the Three Broomsticks, brushing off every trace of dog hair that might have clung to her during her visit with her new friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They're coming today, Ivy," Rose called, her voice pulling Ivy out of a dream where she had been riding on the back of a flying motorcycle with Rubeus Hagrid. He'd told her about the bike only a few nights before, and promised her a ride.

"Who?" she asked groggily, brushing at strands of dream-Hagrid's hair that kept whipping her cheeks. When she opened her eyes she found that it wasn't Hagrid's hair in her face, but her own. A soft groan escaped her as she rolled over. She didn't want to wake up yet. She wanted to ride, and keep on riding, letting the giant take her wherever he wished.

"The kids from up at Hogwarts." Rose's voice came again from downstairs. "Remember, I told you? Halloween is the first Hogwarts Weekend. The students in the third year and up are allowed to come down here for the day. The place will be packed. We've got to get an early start. We did order those extra kegs of butterbeer, didn't we?"

Ivy sat up in bed, the dream sadly slipping away. She did have the vague feeling that maybe shouldn't be thinking thoughts like that about Hagrid. For a minute she felt embarrassment for something she couldn't put her finger on.

"I'm coming," She shouted down the stairs. "And yes we ordered extra. I remember that fellow Starnes getting all excited when you said you needed more."

By mid-morning the place was indeed packed, as Rose had said. Students and teachers alike had descended on Hogsmeade, and Ivy, Rose and Willa had their hands full keeping the customers happy. Professor Lupin came in early, perching on a stool at the end of the bar, where he could have full view of the entire pub. Ivy was glad to see him, but worried. His face seemed particularly pale and drawn. His eyes looked tired, but he seemed to be in good spirits. He ordered a plate of fish and chips and sat back to watch as the Three Broomsticks filled up. Ivy notice that no matter how many trips she made back to the bar, Lupin's plate remained untouched. 

A strange energy seemed to descend on the little town as it began to overflow with students. Happy chatter filled the pub, but there was more to it than just the sound of warm, excited voices. Something tangible filled the air, something Ivy could only label 'magic'. She tripped once and nearly spilled a tray loaded with six foaming mugs of butterbeer onto a tiny professor whom Rose had introduced as Filius Flitwick, but at the last moment the tray hovered, then landed smoothly on the table while Ivy recovered her balance. She'd looked around, but neither Rose or Willa had been in sight. 

The same thing happened a little later with an order of Brunswick stew. This time she'd turned around a bit too quickly, and the stew left its bowl, only to stop in mid-air, then slosh happily back to its proper place. She apologized profusely to the student, a red-haired boy who looked vaguely familiar, all the while looking around to see who'd been watching her back.

Rose waved to her, then, and Ivy sighed in relief. She must have seen what was about to happen; a real mess if the stew had continued its original flight path into the red-head's lap. 

Rose beckoned her over to a table where an ancient looking white-haired wizard sat, along with another wizard and a witch. Ivy paled visibly as she got closer. The man before her could only be Professor Albus Dumbledore, and if anybody could look at someone and know whether they had any scrap of magical power about them, Ivy knew it would have to be him.

"Ivy, come meet Professor Dumbledore."

Ivy groaned inwardly, but smiled down at Hogwart's Headmaster, who was seated at a table close to the bar. He must have noticed her uncertainty, for he stood to his feet with a flourish, and gave her a bow, his eyes twinkling bright. Old gnarled hands took hers, and he shook them vigorously.

"The pleasure is mine," he said, in a most assuring tone, giving her hands an extra squeeze.

"I understand you've recently come to us by way of Australia?"

"Yes, Professor," Ivy said. "Melbourne, to be exact." Her eyes darted toward Rose, but the look on her friend's face gave Ivy the distinct impression that she was on her own. She took a deep breath as Dumbledore resumed his seat, then tried on another smile, this one decidedly more cheerful.

"I like it much better here in Hogsmeade, though. I can never thank Madam Rosmerta enough for letting me stay."

"Melbourne's loss, as they say." Dumbledore agreed. "And may I introduce Professor McGonagall, and Professor Vector, two of Hogwart's finest?" 

Ivy greeted the others as warmly as she could while shaking in her boots. She'd never felt as close to being found out as she did at that moment. 

"And what kind of work did you do in Australia?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

"Oh I..." she floundered for a minute. "I taught mythology. In Philadelphia, then Melbourne. First in high school, and later in college."

"Interesting," Dumbledore observed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"Why mythology?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Ivy grinned. That one was easy. "I've always found the Muggle version of magical things quite fascinating. Try as they might, they can't account for everything. So they've woven stories since time began, trying to explain the unexplainable."

__

And those stories brought me as close to magical things as I could get.

Ivy winced at the thought, realizing that she had come dangerously close to revealing too much.

Rose must have noticed, for she came to Ivy's side, blithely changing the subject to talk about what seemed to be dwelling on everybody's mind: Azkaban's dementors. 

"It was very nice to meet you," Ivy said vaguely, feeling a little faint. She excused herself to the bar, where another red-haired boy stood patiently waiting.

"Can I help you?" she asked, studying his face. Something about him made her feel as thought she might have known him a very long time ago.

"Just a couple mugs of butterbeer," he asked, his face reddening at her open scrutiny. 

Ivy filled one tankard and set it on the bar, and suddenly her face brightened. "I remember now... You must be related to Charlie Weasley. Is he your..."

"Brother, yeah. So's Bill. And Percy over there, the one you almost dumped the stew on. Pity you caught it."

Ivy filled the other mug and walked around the bar with it, following the boy over to his table. "I'm Ivy Ollivander. I used to know your brothers."

"Everybody around here knows them," the boy complained. "I'm Ron, by the way. And this is Hermione Granger."

Ivy smiled, and this time the expression was genuine.

"So did Charlie go off to raise dragons in Romania?" she asked, putting the mug on the table in front of Hermione. She couldn't help but be a little excited about a link to a time when she was still a welcome part of the wizarding world.

"He always said he would. I used to think he was so cute. I had quite the crush on hi--" She stopped when she noticed scowl on Ron's face. It became suddenly obvious to Ivy that Ron did not want to hear about girls having crushes on his older brother.

"Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean to go on. I just... well, never mind. I better get back to work."

"Wait," Ron said. "I'm sorry. I was rude. Didn't mean to run you off. It just gets old, you know, walking in their footprints all the time. Everything's hand-me-down." _And when a pretty older woman looks at you that way, it shouldn't be because she's remembering your brother, _he thought miserably_._

"Well, I knew you looked familiar." she started carefully. "A very long time ago I used to play with Charlie and Bill. Our mums were friends." Her voice sounded suddenly far off, and she looked down, wiping the table off with a towel. 

"I think Charlie is very nice looking," Hermione chimed in, throwing Ron a quick glare. 

Ivy looked up, a wisp of pain showing in her eyes, but only for a moment. "That was a long time ago," she admitted. "And I'd best be getting back to work. I hope you two enjoy your day in Hogsmeade."

"Nice to meet you," Hermoine called as Ivy went back to the bar. Ivy turned and gave her a smile, then turned her attention to another waiting patron. A little later she looked up and saw Ron and Hermione on the other side of the bar.

"Need a refill?" she asked.

"No," Hermione said, taking an empty seat. "I just wanted to hear some more about when you knew Charlie and Bill. And don't mind Ron, he really didn't mean to make you sad."

"No!" Ivy said. "It wasn't Ron. Thinking of Charlie made me think of my mother, that's all. She died a long time ago. But I guess you never get over missing your Mum."

Just then Hagrid burst through the front door. Ivy's face went pink as she remembered tendrils of her fading dream. Ron and Hermione both greeted the giant with happy grins.

"Hi Hagrid," Ivy joined in. "Can I get you anything?" He still looked troubled, and she couldn't wait to ask how progress was going with Buckbeak. "How's the case going?"

"Better'n expected, thanks to these two an' Harry. They're helpin' me wi' a defense."

"That's good news, right?" she took his tankard down from its shelf, but he waved it away. 

"Think I'll just have summat to eat. Maybe an ale. A small one."

"We've got stew today. Or fish and chips. Or ham and fried potatoes." The ham made her think of Blackie. A few more slabs cut off the one in the kitchen, and she'd have him a brand new bone.

"I'll take the ham," said Hagrid, then he turned his attention to the youngsters. "Found out anythin' new?"

Hermione was shaking her head no when Ivy retreated into the kitchen. She'd just headed toward the fireplace when she heard voices coming from the back step. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but she did have to get that ham.

"He's getting sick again," came a voice that Ivy recognized immediately. She hadn't seen Professor Snape in the pub, but she knew his voice on the back step when she heard it. "I thought the potions would be enough, but I'm going to need your help tonight. I must show up at the Halloween feast. I'll need someone to watch him."

"I'd be glad to help," came another voice, this one Rose's. "Soon as the pub clears out, I'll be there, Professor."

Snape's voice came back, and Ivy could almost see the sneer on his face, it dripped so heavily into his voice.

"I do not see the wisdom in continuing this... effort."

Another voice came then, this one softer, but definitely more determined. "Yours is not to reason why, Severus," It was Albus Dumbledore. "You've procured some very good help, here. The potion will kick in eventually. I believe that's all you need concern yourself with." 

Ivy heard the distinct sound of heels clumping down the back stairs then. She carefully flipped the ham, then slid it onto a plate. She was dishing out fried potatoes when she heard Professor Dumbledore speak again.

"I feel much better knowing I can count on you, Rosmerta. Your merlin will be perfect. Stick to the plan though, nothing heroic. If anything happens I want you to fly away. Do you have any other questions?" 

Ivy didn't wait to hear her friend's reply. Maybe Rose would have no questions, but suddenly Ivy was full of them. What did Dumbledore mean by 'Your merlin is perfect'? And would there be a need for Rose to be heroic? As for flying away... Ivy supposed that could refer to Apparating, or maybe she'd have her broom nearby. Puzzled, she slid the plates onto her arm, grabbed a tankard and headed for the bar, wondering if she'd ever find out was Rose was really up to.

When she got back to the bar, Remus Lupin had joined Hagrid, Hermione and Ron. He looked even more pale than he had before.

"Professor Lupin," Ivy said. Suddenly she wished that she could make him feel better with a chunk of chocolate, as he'd done for her. "Can I get you something? Anything? Maybe Rose could mix you up a tonic."

"So I look that bad, then?"

Ivy served Hagrid his food and ale then shot a worried glance at Lupin. "Maybe you should go home and rest." 

"I will. In a little while. Can I get the usual first?"

Ivy nodded, then shared her worried look with Hermione. She mixed a red currant rum, then handed it to Lupin. His fingers felt like slivers of ice.

"Look," Ron suddenly spoke up. "We promised we'd bring some sweets back from Honeydukes, for a friend. We'll go pick some up, then we can help Professor Lupin back to Hogwarts." He wanted very badly to make up for being rude to Ivy earlier. 

"Good idea," Ivy said, breathing a sigh of relief. Her eyes went wide at the thought of Remus walking all the way back on his own. She watched as Ron and Hermione left, along with several other students. Turning back, she was just in time to hear Lupin moan quietly, then slump over the bar, unconscious.

"Oh no," she murmured, rounding the bar to rush to his side. She pressed a hand to his forehead, but instead of fever, he was clammy and cold. Shaking his shoulder in a futile attempt to wake him, she turned her eyes toward her companion. "Hagrid, what should we do?"

Before the giant could reply Rose came running from the kitchen. Her face was nearly as pale as Lupin's 

"Hagrid!" she barked. "Take Remus to the upstairs bedroom. I'll go and see if Professor Dumbledore is still outside. Ivy..." she glanced at her friend, and Ivy could see the panic that flirted in the depths of her eyes.

"Stay down here and take care of the pub. I'll mix up a tonic as soon as I get back."

Ivy swallowed hard as Hagrid scooped up Lupin. Like a rag doll, his head hung loosely. His arms swayed with every move Hagrid made. She watched from her post at the bar as the two of them disappeared up the staircase. A cluster of onlookers that had gathered at the bar broke up at that point, and Ivy got the distinct impression that some of the magic had gone out of the day. 

Ron and Hermione entered the pub just as Hagrid rejoined Ivy at the bar. 

"He's sleepin' peaceful, reckon," Hagrid said. "Rose's tonic'll help 'im out, Ivy. No need to worry."

But Ivy was worried. Even Hagrid's assurances couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Maybe it had been the way he'd hung so limp in Hagrid's arms, or the grayish tinge in his face. Or the way he'd just pitched over onto the bar without a word of warning. Just that groan. A sound that continued to replay itself unmercifully in Ivy's head.

She explained to Ron and Hermoine what had happened, and watched as they left the pub. Everyone was beginning to clear out now, as time for the Halloween Feast at Hogwarts drew near. Ivy watched them leave in groups, heads all bent together in various speculations about the Professor and his collapse.

Rose came in as the last of them were leaving. A wooden crate, its contents smoking slightly, was clutched to her chest. 

"This tonic'll fix him up," she said, eyes darting form Hagrid to Ivy. Her fingers dug nervously into the wood of the crate, and Ivy could see the scratch marks she'd left there. 

"Will you go check on Remus, Ivy?" she asked, and Ivy clearly heard a touch of panic in her voice. Without a word, she rounded the bar and headed up the stairs. Remus was lying on her bed, on his side, curled into a fetal position. His eyes opened as she placed a hand across his forehead.

"Ivy," he started, but she wouldn't let him speak.

"Everything's going to be alright, Professor. Rose is fixing you a nice tonic, and as soon as you're able, Hagrid can help you get home."

He gave her a wan smile and took her hand. "Please, Ivy... don't you know me well enough by now to call me by my first name?" 

Ivy smiled. His gentle patter made her feel as though a hundred pound weight had just been gently lifted from her shoulders. Surely men who were dying didn't make jokes about first names.

"I'd be honored, Remus." She patted his shoulder. "You should've stayed home in bed, today."

"I know. But I thought you might need a little help." His eyes widened, then closed and he covered his face with his hands.

"Remus! What is it? Are you in pain?" Ivy asked, shaking his shoulder.

"No, Ivy. Just a little tired. Would you mind going downstairs and asking Rose how much longer on the tonic?"

"Of course not," she said, giving his arm a squeeze. "I'll be back in a minute."

She ran down the stairs, and that's when his words struck her as odd. He'd said that he thought she'd need help. But why would he think such a thing? Her first Hogwarts Weekend had been busy, and there had been moments when she forgot orders, or mixed something up. Not to mention that near-fiasco with a bowl of stew. Ivy's eyes widened in wonder. Had Lupin been the one who'd caused the soup to return to its bowl? She shook her head, skipping the last two steps and heading for the kitchen. Lupin couldn't have been the one who'd rescued her from that one. Lupin didn't _Know_. 

Rose met her half-way across the pub with a goblet full of something that was steaming faintly. But as she got closer Ivy realized that 'steam' was probably the wrong word. Steam was light and see-through. What wafted off the goblet in Rose's hand was thick and opalescent. And green.

"Is it alright?" Rose asked as she breezed past Ivy.

"It?" 

Rose's eyes danced from the goblet to Ivy's face.

"Him, I mean... he. Is _he_ alright?" 

"He seems better. He's talking, anyway. Looks like he could use a big dose of iron. Maybe he's anemic."

Rose shrugged. It was obvious that she had other things on her mind. Without another word, she headed for the stairs, nearly tripping over the first one as she concentrated on the goblet, instead of her footing.

Ivy walked over to the bar, where Hagrid sat watching. He'd found his tankard and filled it with mead sometime during Ivy's absence, but that was nothing new. He was probably their best customer, at least the most faithful, and if he had an occasion to help himself to something, no one minded. 

Thinking about faithfulness gave Ivy a start. She'd forgotten to leave Blackie his bone, and it was getting dark outside. She groaned at the thought of leaving the pub after dark. Even Hagrid complained about having to walk past dementors every time he left to go home. Ivy's experience with the demon guards had made her dread every sunset, and just the thought of sticking her head out the back door after dark gave her a shudder. She couldn't ask Hagrid to do it. He'd ask questions, or worse, mention her enormous pet to Rose. Then she'd be in trouble. 

There was no way around it. She'd have to do it herself. The dog depended on her for food. She hadn't seen him in a day or two, which meant that he had to be hungry. Ivy had her suspicions that he had other people tossing him bones from their back steps, but she still felt responsible for his care. Besides... If Rose saw the bone in the morning, she'd toss it out with the trash.

She smiled apologetically at Hagrid, took his long-empty plate with her, and slipped into the kitchen. Hefting the bone in both her hands made her smile widen. This was a good one. She'd made sure to leave lots of meat stuck to it, and it still dripped juicily. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the back stairs landing, making sure this time to leave the door wide open. If Blackie wanted this bone, he would have to come to her. She was not leaving the rectangle of golden light that cascaded across the landing.

"Blackie," she called into the night. At first there was nothing, but then she heard an all too familiar whine. "There you are, you big--"

Her greeting was cut off as a huge hand gripped her shoulder and dragged her back into the pub.

"WHAT'ER YOU THINKIN'?" Hagrid all but bellowed at her. "Ya shou'n't be goin' out there after dark. Ha'n't we warned ya 'bout the dementors?"

Ivy stared up at him, ham bone still dripping in her hand. She'd never seen his usually ruddy face go so pale. Immediately she felt guilty and dropped her gaze.

"I was tryin' to feed a dog," she mumbled, holding up the ham bone. "He comes around here looking for food. I usually toss him something before sundown, but with Professor Lupin... I just forgot. And yes. You warned me about the dementors." She closed her eyes against that memory.

"Gimme _that_," Hagrid sighed, reaching for the bone. It was slippery, and she nearly dropped it raising it up to his outstretched hand. Instinctively, she caught it with her other hand, fumbling with it's slickness until both her hands and the bone landed in the giant's massive palm. She tried pulling her right hand out from under it while steadying it with her left, nearly crying out in frustration. 

The warmth of Hagrid's hand stole quickly up her arm and into her face, causing a furious blush along her cheekbones. For a minute she was stuck there, both hands underneath a very slippery ham bone. She stretched them out, fascinated by the fact that both of them fit into his palm, with room to spare. His fingers curled reflexively around her wrists, brushing against the place where her heart beat pulsed. That pulse quickened noticeably at his touch.

"Sorry..." she mumbled, tearing her gaze from his face to slip one hand out from under the bone, and then the other. Slowly. So slowly that she shocked herself. She backed away from Hagrid while he took the bone outside and hurled it across the alley. She met him with a huge linen napkin, wiping her own hands off with one end while he used the other. 

She ventured a look at him, and almost laughed. A crimson glow had stolen from his cheeks all the way up to his forehead. His eyes were huge for a moment, then he coughed far too loudly and strode across the room, dropping the napkin onto the kitchen table.

"If 'e wants it, he can go find it," Hagrid muttered, then he walked out of the room, leaving Ivy alone in the kitchen. She stood there for a minute, then rushed to catch up.

"Hagrid, wait," she said, half expecting him to be gone before she could make it around the bar. When she got there he had his face hidden behind the ever-present tankard. He thumped it down on the bar, making Ivy jump.

"Foul beasts, dementors," Hagrid said quietly. "I spen' a little time in Azkaban myself, not long ago. Never wanna feel that cold again."

"You went to Azkaban?" Ivy asked, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bar. Suddenly the interlude in the kitchen was forgotten. The small cloud of tension between them had dissipated, and Ivy was glad. 

"Don' worry, I ain't a criminal er nothin'," he added darkly. "I was innocent."

"Yeah," she laughed. "That's what they all say." She reached across the shelf just under the bar and brought out a deck of cards, dealing them between herself and Hagrid. This was much safer, familiar ground than the slippery slope they'd been standing on back in the kitchen.

"Happy Halloween, by the way," she said, picking up her cards. "There's some pumpkin pie in the kitchen. I'll get us a piece if you want."

"It can wait till I beat ya at this hand, reckon."

Ivy laughed, allowing her gaze to float upward, toward where Rose still tended to Lupin.

"He'll be a'right," Hagrid said, following her gaze. "Come on, play yer hand. I wanna see what yer holdin'."

Ivy laid down a pair of twos and three eights. "Full house," she grinned.

"Hold on," Hagrid complained, moustache twitching. "Nobody's that lucky, firs' hand. I think yer cheatin'."

"Cheatin'?" she asked, trying hard to match his accent. "Maybe I'm just better at cards than you."

"Maybe th' moon's made a cheese."

Eight hands and one-and-a-half pumpkin pies later, the giant rose to leave. Ivy ran upstairs to see if Rose thought Hagrid should take Lupin home. She swung into the room, hand still clutching the doorpost, and found it totally empty.


	7. Christmas

Ivy woke up with a start. She couldn't remember why at first, but there was something important about this day. As sleep receded, her memory returned: the students from Hogwarts would be visiting Hogsmeade. It was nearly Christmas and she and Rose had gone to great lengths to make sure the Three Broomsticks was festive for the holiday. 

They'd spent an entire day freezing in the forest, in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Hagrid consented to go with them, as much to chop down their tree as to stand guard against roaming dementors. Ivy'd felt like some huge breed of wood nymph, running from tree to tree, inspecting each for its strengths and flaws.

When the perfect tree was found, Hagrid made quick work of felling it, and then dragging it out of the woods. Ivy trotted beside him, while Rose followed.

"You look like Santa Claus... no wait," Ivy'd told Hagrid as he plodded along the road with the tree dragging along behind him. "Father Christmas," she finished, searching her brain for the more European version of the name. She'd managed to catch up and pass him, and had turned around to walk backwards, so she could enjoy the scene that stretched out before her. 

Snow had covered Hagrid's great mane, and as he leaned into his work, he reminded Ivy of pictures she's seen of Santa dragging a pack full of presents. Thinking of presents brought a furrow to her brow: she wanted more than anything for her gifts this year to express all that her new friends meant to her. 

"What do you want for Christmas, Hagrid?" she'd asked. 

He had stopped in his tracks and given her a funny look. "A li'l help with this tree, maybe?" They'd gone deeper into the forest than they'd realized, and Hagrid's chest heaved as he stood to catch his breath.

"We're almost home now," she reminded. "And I don't think I'd be much help." Ivy looked past him to check on Rose's progress. She was just emerging from the woods.

"Have you ever made snow angels?" Ivy asked, then laughed at the thought of Hagrid, beard waving, laying in the snow to make an angel. 

"Probably not," she finished, without waiting for an answer.

"Yer right about that," Hagrid answered. "What's a snow angel?"

With that Ivy had fallen backwards into a bank of snow, flapped her arms and legs back and forth for a minute, then stood carefully to her feet. Jumping away from where she stood, she turned and presented her print in the snow.

"There. One fresh snow angel." The movement of her hands and feet had made a decent likeness of an angel in the snow.

"That's pretty good," he'd replied. "But can ya do this?" He pulled something pink and frilly out from the depths of his moleskin coat. It was an umbrella. To Ivy's amazement he'd pointed the umbrella into the snow bank, and whispered a few words she couldn't hear.

Immediately snow had begun to swirl around them, making Ivy feel as though she'd been shrunken and placed in the center of a magical snow globe. When the snow settled, she turned to see a life sized snow-hippogriff standing in the road, wings outstretched as if ready to take flight.

"Amazing!" she'd exclaimed, running for a closer look. Mittened hands reached up to run along the creature's icy back, then she'd turned to congratulate Hagrid.

"You're gonna get in trouble for that, Hagrid," came Rose's warning voice from behind them. She'd finally caught up, and was standing in the middle of the street, hands on hips.

Hagrid had only shrugged and hefted the tree's rope back across his shoulder. 

"Why would he get in trouble for making something so beautiful?" Ivy'd questioned, running a hand along the edge of one sparkling hippogriff wing. 

"He's not supposed to do magic without permission from Dumbledore." Rose told her.

Hagrid hadn't said a word, but suddenly Ivy was saddened for him. It was one thing not to have any magic to use, but it was another to have magic and not be allowed to use it. Ivy had found herself walking to the tow rope and gripping it close to the tree. Maybe she couldn't help much, but she felt the need to stand by Hagrid and show her support.

"It looks just like Beaky," she muttered defiantly.

Hagrid only grunted from deep in his throat and kept pulling, turning to look back once and give her a wink. 

Something between them had changed that day. What the change had been, she couldn't exactly put her finger on, but Ivy knew things were different. She caught Hagrid watching her every now and then, and when their eyes met, his cheeks would flush. This would cause Ivy to go pink herself, and they'd stand there, eyes locked, looking decidedly foolish. But feeling something that cemented their friendship beyond anything Ivy'd imagined. _Togetherness_ was the only word she could find for it. A togetherness that stayed with her even after Hagrid went home, and kept her cozy as she went to bed at night. 

"What are you dreaming about?" Rose's voice cut in to Ivy's thoughts and brought her back to reality.

Ivy only shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. 

"Well, when you decide to come back to earth, we've got a huge day ahead of us. Christmas Hogwarts weekend is the biggest of the year. I may pop up to the castle and ask Dumbledore for an extra elf or two. They can keep busy in the kitchen while we stay out front."

Ivy nodded. "That would help. But what about Willa?" She threw off her blankets, then immediately began to grab for them again. "It's cold in here!" 

Rose bent over her. "That's because nobody's downstairs to tend to the fire. Willa won't mind having a few more elves around, if she thinks she'll be getting some help. "

Ivy slipped out of bed, pulling a robe across her shoulders. "OK, then. You get the house elves, I'll get the fire." She watched Rose Apparate, then ran downstairs to the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Merry Christmas, Blackie," Ivy whispered into the morning air. An icy breeze caught puffs of her breath and sent them careening down the alley. Even in her heaviest robe, Ivy shivered. She maneuvered herself carefully down the frozen steps with a big wooden bowl in her hand.

"Left-over Brunswick stew for your morning's dining pleasure," she said out loud, even though she hadn't seen the dog yet. "Better hurry before it freezes over."

She waited in the snow for a minute, no longer bothering to hide the fact that she fed the big black beast on a regular basis. No matter what Rose or Remus said, she had no more worries about Blackie. They'd spent too many hours together down by the vulture tree, and by now she'd told him all of her deepest secrets, emboldened by his understanding gaze, and the fact that since dog's couldn't talk, dogs couldn't tell. 

"There'll be lots more later. I promise you all the best Christmas dinner left-overs. I only wish I could invite you in. It's cold out here." She shivered again and headed inside, stopping on the top step to look around for Blackie. He hadn't appeared yet, but Ivy knew he'd show up eventually. 

Closing the door behind her, Ivy joined Rose in the kitchen. A self-stirring cauldron bubbled on the hearth, and a Christmas goose baked in the bowels of the pot-bellied stove, surrounded by potatoes and carrots. Pies were lined up the counter -- cherry and pumpkin, apple and mince. Ivy'd made two carrot cakes for the occasion. They sat near the pies, slathered with cream cheese frosting, along with frothy jugs of chilled pumpkin juice. Nearly everything was ready, and Ivy was excited about the feast.

"Who did we invited again?" she asked Rose, who was putting the finishing touches on a huge glazed ham.

"The Honeydukes, and the boys from over at Zonko's. I asked Remus, but he's feeling a little under the weather. You invited Hagrid. And... let's see. Mr. Cornelius, the postman. I think that's all."

"We have too much food."

"Of course we do, Ivy. It's Christmas. I'm sure you can feed whatever's left over to that beastly dog outside." She turned and gave Ivy a meaningful stare.

"I know," Ivy sighed, checking to make sure the cauldron was still stirring. "I promised not to feed him, but..."

Rose waved her out of the way with a pot-holder. "I have to check on the goose."

"You're not mad at me are you?" Ivy asked. "About the dog, I mean."

"No, I'm not mad. It's Christmas. Nobody's supposed to angry Christmas morning. I've asked you to be careful, but you're a grown woman after all. And if you go out there and look under the tree you'll see how 'not angry' I am"

Ivy's gaze turned toward the pub's Christmas tree, remembering again the trip she and Rose had taken into the woods with Hagrid to pick it out. It stood alight even now with bright golden glow balls and candles that burned with flame but were not consumed. She and Rose had strung popcorn and cranberries, then draped them all over the tree, and Hagrid had topped it off with a big silver star that scraped the ceiling. This was the happiest Christmas that Ivy could remember, and before she knew it, the tree began to swim a little before her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Presents..." she whispered, walking across the pub to peer beneath the tree's lowest branches. She ran her fingertips along a blue- and gold-wrapped box labeled "Ivy", Then picked up another with Hagrid's name on it.

"Presents!" She jumped to her feet and ran up stairs, suddenly remembering her own. She and Rose had gone shopping in Diagon Alley before Christmas, and Ivy had hidden her gifts beneath her bed. She'd found emerald green heels for Rosie, and a pin made of three silver broomsticks. For Hagrid she'd purchased a dragon figurine that could walk about and flex its wings. It would even open its mouth when you stroked it. A tiny flame erupted from its jaws from time to time. She'd almost bought him a fairy tale book, but put it back upon remembering that dragons get killed in the end of most fairy tales she'd ever read. She'd settled for a book entitled "Know Your Magical Creatures," and a box of fudge truffles from Honeydukes.

For Professor Lupin she'd found a set of six quills in an ornate wooden case. They came with a color changing ink spell and were guaranteed to never need a refill. 

She was arranging them underneath the tree when the front door burst open. Swirls of snow came inside as the Honeydukes arrived. They'd brought an enormous Christmas pudding and Fizzing Whizzbees and a lovely basket filled with assorted chocolate candies. Not far behind them came the boys from Zonko's Joke Shop, Zeke and Zack. 

Never before had Ivy seen two young men so opposite in appearance. Zeke stood tall and long of face, with a slight overbite that became even more pronounced when he smiled. Zack, on the other hand, was short and plump, with great jowls that shook when he laughed, which was quite often. They both shared the same sparkling blue eyes, and had their father Zinnuis not been feeling under the weather, Ivy would have discovered where they'd inherited that particular feature.

They entered the pub in an explosion of laughter, slipping on the top step and nearly losing the entire contents of a basket full of Christmas crackers. They greeted Ivy by kissing her cheeks at the same time, and she was charmed at once. 

The next arrival was Mr. Cornelius, the postman. Ivy'd never seen him when he wasn't all business, so it was a nice surprise when he arrived grinning, and bearing two enormous bottles of elderberry wine.

Hagrid was the last arrival, his mane covered with a layer of new snow. Over his shoulder he'd slung a huge velvet sack stuffed with gifts, and Ivy was reminded again of Santa Claus. He shook his head and snow flew in all directions, then bellowed, "Merry Christmas!"

The cry was taken up by all in the room, then tables were sent flying to the walls as Rose made room for the one long table they'd use to share their Christmas dinner. Ivy watched, wide-eyed, as old friends greeted each other with warm kisses on snow-chilled cheeks. Everyone pitched in, bringing platters and bowls from the kitchen to the table. Zack Zonko got a bit carried away and exploded the first Christmas cracker, sending confetti and ribbons flying across the room. A jaunty green pointed wizard hat flew from the cracker, landing perkily on Rose's head.

This was nothing like any Christmas Ivy'd ever experienced. She had to take a seat so as not to be overwhelmed by all the emotions that assaulted her. There was joy at being embraced by such a happy crowd, for not one of the guests had even questioned Ivy's right to be here, then there was sadness when she pondered all the years she'd missed out on gatherings like this. And of course the fear of being found out never left her mind whenever she found herself in the midst of a group of magical people. 

So far her Theory of Knowing had been disproved time and again, but every now and then she'd imagine a sideways glance or whisper behind a hand, and wonder if that meant somebody Knew. Knew she wasn't magical and Knew she didn't belong. She stood to her feet and was heading toward the kitchen when she was stopped by Hagrid the giant.

"Happy Christmas, Ivy," he announced, handing her a mug of steaming butterbeer. She took the mug and saluted him.

"Merry Christmas to you." 

His beetle black eyes were bright as she'd ever seen them, his cheeks ruddy from walking to the pub. The great tangle of his hair and beard still sparkled with an occasional unmelted snowflake, and as Ivy took him in, she found her breath came only in constricted little gasps. Her eyes widened as she realized, _he takes my very breath away. _

For once it was she who hid her face behind a mug, blushing furiously. The butterbeer warmed her down to her toes, and as she drained the mug she was able to look him in the eye. 

"You still look like Santa," she said, feeling her blush deepen.

He leaned toward her and murmured, "Maybe I am." 

Ivy laughed out loud and for a moment her whole world revolved around the sound. She felt as warm and golden as the light that diffused through the mullioned windows. When something popped just over her head, and she looked up to see a ribboned sprig of mistletoe, she was not in the least surprised, nor was she surprised to see that it was Madam Rosmerta's wand that had produced the floating plant. Ivy saw the same sly glint in Rosie's eye that had previously danced in Hagrid's and when the giant bent to embrace her and kiss her full on the mouth, she only laughed louder and returned his embrace. 

It wasn't her imagination when the kiss went a bit longer than most mistletoe inspired kisses go. It was followed by another, and even as the room erupted into good-natured cheers, Ivy found that now not only could she not breathe, but her head was swimming as well. Her grip on Hagrid tightened, not out of passion, but just a need to hold on. To keep her balance as her legs went weak And even after their lips parted, their eyes remained locked on each other for a long moment that threatened to change them both forever. 

Not for the first time, Ivy imagined the giant loosing 5 pound butterflies inside her. She felt as she had at the end of that long ago hippogriff ride, unbalanced and exhilarated at the same time. She felt behind her and landed in a fortunately placed chair. When she looked back at Hagrid, he looked a little green around the gills. He sat down in a chair across the table from her, and took a long swallow from the contents of his tankard.

Overhead, more sprigs of mistletoe appeared, although Ivy did not see them. The laughter that erupted at the bar when Zack Zonko made the mistletoe above him and Rose reappear sounded like something that was happening in another room. Finally she reached across the table and gave Hagrid's hand a squeeze. Her movement seemed to break the spell they'd both been under, and he reached into a pocket, producing a small gold box. He handed it to Ivy who grinned.

"You _are_ Santa," she murmured.

Hagrid shook his head. "Not him. Jus' one a his little helpers."

Ivy laughed at the thought of anything about Hagrid being little, her fingers tracing along the box's golden edge.

"Are you gonna open it?"

Her smile got bigger as she tore into the paper, pulling off the lid to reveal a shiny silver necklace on a black velvet pillow. At the end of the necklace a silver hippogriff dangled, and for a moment Ivy wondered if Hagrid had somehow known how his kiss made her feel. 

"It's beautiful!" she exclaimed, pulling it out of the box and allowing it to shimmer in the light. 

"Tho't a you when I saw it. Som'thin' to remind ya... of Gingerfoot... And me." 

"I could never forget you, Hagrid," she assured him. "That was a magical day. I'll never forget it as long as I live." 

She stood up and rounded the table, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. It's perfect."

She held the necklace out to him, then turned around, holding up her braid and waiting for him to secure it around her neck. The giant fumbled with the silver catch for a minute, then draped the hippogriff around her neck. 

"I can't get it, Ivy," he complained. "My fingers're too big..."

Ivy laughed and reached behind her. Her fingers found his, and then the latch at the end of the chain.

"It's not that hard, Hagrid," she insisted. "See... feel the latch. It's just there..."

But Hagrid found himself unable to concentrate on the tiny silver latch. He could not tear his gaze away from Ivy's creamy neck. He wanted to run his fingers across her skin, just to see if it was as soft as it looked, but he knew that if he did that, he'd get that swimmy feeling he'd gotten before, when he'd kissed her. 

Red began to creep along his cheekbones, and he knew he'd have to put a little distance between himself and that ivory neck, if he was going to have any chance at all to save himself from feeling as though he'd mounted a hippogriff himself, then decided to slip off its back at ten thousand feet. 

He pulled his fingers out of her grasp as though suddenly realizing he'd gotten them too close to a fire. Ivy latched the necklace in one simple motion, then turned around, smiling brightly. Her smile faded a little as she saw his face. He was pale, except for two spots of color high up on his cheekbones. 

"Hagrid?" she asked. "Is something -"

The giant coughed loudly, then pulled a tablecloth-sized handkerchief out of his pocket. He brought it to his face, coughing into it once more. Raising a hand, he waved her off. 

"Everythin's fine, Ivy," he sputtered. "Just got choked on a bit mead."

She stood before him for a minute, wondering just when he'd had time to take a drink, and thinking that he'd had a tankard of butterbeer, not mead. She was about to point that out when Rose strode to where the giant was seated.

"Don't you have something under that tree with his name on it?" she asked, resting a hand on Hagrid's shoulder. She shooed Ivy toward the tree. Hagrid's sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by Rose, whose eyes danced at the way he reacted to the closeness of her best friend. 

"Feeling better, there, Hagrid?" she asked. The giant nodded into his hanky and she laughed, slapping him on the shoulder as they watched Ivy present her gifts. 

"These are for you, Hagrid," Ivy said, beaming happily. She placed two wrapped packages and the box of chocolate truffles on the table in front of Hagrid. 

"And these are for you, Rose." She walked behind Hagrid to Rose, embracing her warmly before handing over her gifts. Rose returned the embrace.

"Happy Christmas, Ivy," she said softly, brushing her thumb across Ivy's cheek. "You have no idea how glad I am that you're here."

Ivy felt tears prick the back of her eyelids. "If it's half as glad as I am to be here, maybe I do."

She watched her friends open their packages, hands wringing nervously. But both Rose and Hagrid seemed genuinely pleased with her choices. Rose changed into her new heels right away, then pinned the brooch to her collar. Hagrid got a little misty-eyed when he opened the dragon, but recovered quickly upon realizing that it actually moved when stroked.

"It's a Norwegian Ridgeback, Ivy," he told her. "Where ever did ya find it?"

Ivy smiled mischievously. "Can't tell you that. It's a secret."

"It's magic," Hagrid said.

Ivy took the seat across from him again, as the others began to sit down, his proclamation ringing pleasantly in her ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This was the most perfect Christmas," Ivy stated, when the party was over, and she and Rose had finally gone to their beds.

"Oh I don't know, Ive. We had some great ones when we were little. Elana always made sure of that."

"Alright then, this was the most perfect Christmas since..." Ivy thought back for a minute. "Since I turned 11."

"Hagrid looked like he'd been hit by a freight train after you kissed him." Rose mentioned with a grin so wide Ivy could see a flash of white teeth in the dimness of the room.

"He kissed _me_..." Ivy protested. "And it was your mistletoe. You egged him on."

"Well, you're right about that. I egged him on. You two've only been staring at each other like moonstruck cows for days now."

Ivy giggled. "Moonstruck cows..." She thought about that for a moment, then turned to Rose. "He was very quiet after that. And had trouble looking me in the eye."

"You scared him... what's that phrase you always use? 'Out of his skin'."

"You can't scare a giant," Ivy laughed again. "They're fearless."

"Fearless except when it comes to pretty girls with sea-green eyes. Well, at least our particular giant. And he's really only half-giant, to be fair. Maybe it's the _not-giant _part of him that's scared out of his skin."

"Only half?" Ivy asked, surprised.

Rose thumped her in the head with a pillow. "Ivy, if he was 100% giant he'd be over twenty feet tall. He'd have to use our wash bucket for a tankard. And neither of us could serve him, because we couldn't drag it across the room."

Ivy laughed again at that thought. "I already get back aches dragging the one he uses back and forth. So was it his dad, or his mum who was... you know... little?" 

"His dad. And you really should be asking him these questions. Not me."

Ivy sighed, and sank down further under her blankets. "He may not be back for a while, if he's scared out of his skin. He didn't kiss me good-bye. He just looked at me like he wanted to, then patted the top of my head and left. I'd rather have him as just a friend then run him off."

"You two _have_ gotten close lately," Rose agreed. 

"Because you're disappearing all the time." Ivy accused, and this time it was Rose's turn to get thumped with a pillow. "Will you ever be able to tell me what's going on?"

Rose sat up, her silhouette turning to Ivy in the darkness.

"It's Remus," she said simply. "He's got a... condition. And it's got to be kept under control if he's to keep his job at Hogwarts. I'm just... keeping an eye on him."

"For that Snape fellow?" Ivy asked with a shudder.

"Not for Snape, Ivy. For Remus. He's such a wonderful teacher. The kids need him, and he... he needs them as well."

"And Rose needs Remus," Ivy added gently.

Rose flopped back down on her bed, silent for a long time.

"He's got the soul of a poet," she managed, a little later. "And those beautiful eyes... soft and gray like... like goose down on winter's coldest day."

"You love him," Ivy stated. 

"Just like you love Hagrid, hmmm?" Rose prodded.

That thought gave Ivy a jolt. "Is _that _what this is?" she questioned Rose. "Love?" 

"How does it feel?" Rose asked, grinning.

"Like when I rode the hippogriff."

"Ivy, I never rode one of those. How does it _feel_?"

"When I see him I can't breathe," Ivy answered.

"That's love," Rose informed.

"And my head gets swimmy."

"That's it."

"And I want him to kiss me, but I'm a little afraid my heart'll pop if he does. Especially if he looks at me that way."

"What way?"

"Rose!"

"What way, Ivy? We've got to get to the bottom of this. It's very important."

"He looks as me like he's been searching for something for a really long time, and he thinks he may have found it in my eyes."

Ivy sat back, stunned. She'd never vocalized any of this. Not to Blackie, who knew everything. Not even to herself.

"Is that love, then Rosie?" she asked in a very small voice. It made her friend think of conversations they'd have when they were little. They'd always end with Rose assuring Ivy that everything would work itself out in the end. She sighed, and whispered her answer.

"I don't know, Ivy. I'm trying to figure that one out for myself."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Year's Eve came, and Remus felt well enough to join the party, this time, which made Rose come alive. She really was a striking beauty, and Ivy wasn't the only one who noticed that she saved all her dances for the Professor.

Hagrid showed up late, and already a bit tipsy, but Ivy didn't seem to notice. She did get to spend the moment when New Year's Eve turned to New Year's Day in his arms, and he kissed her, but it wasn't the same. The fire that had sparked between them at Christmas had gone out. Or been snuffed. Ivy couldn't quite tell which. They shared one dance, and Hagrid held her so tight she was afraid she might smother. She pressed her cheek against his chest and listened to his heart beat as the music played. One hand gripped his arm above the elbow, the other reached up higher, where her fingers played absently in the ends of his hair. 

His heartbeat seemed erratic, beating slowly at times, then speeding up, only to stop for a moment that was long enough to make Ivy wonder if something physical was wrong with him. She resolved to memorize the sound, feeling as though it might be a long time before she'd hear it again. She got the feeling that he didn't find what he searched for when their eyes locked this time, for he left not long after their dance, muttering about dementors, and making sure his hippogriff was bedded down safe for the night.

Ivy left the party early, too, crawling in bed trying to figure out what was different about Hagrid. She fell asleep wondering, but somewhere in the wee hours of the morning it all came together in her mind, and she woke up with a start.

__

He Knows.

The thought rumbled through her mind like an ominous thunder cloud.

__

He felt it when he kissed me.

Her fingers touched her lips, wondering if indeed they'd somehow betrayed her. Her mind continued its tirade.

__

He knows you're not magic, and that's the end of it for you. 'Everything's better off with its own kind.' That's what he said, don't you remember?

Of course she remembered, but that was way back when they'd first met. Before Gingerfoot. Before he'd taught her to play cards or caught her feeding Blackie.

__

Pigs don't fly, Ivy. Hagrid is a wizard and you're not. He'll never love you. It's impossible. You're only...

You're only...

"Ivy?"

Rose's voice spoke from her side of the room.

"Ivy are you crying?"

"No," she lied feebly. "No, I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Rose did as Ivy suggested. As for Ivy, she still lay wide away as dawn brightened the bedroom. It did nothing to brighten her heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Author's Note: 

I just wanted to take a minute and say thanks for hangin' with the story this far!!

Any comments on making it better are greatly appreciated. You rock!! Now on to chapter 8........ :o)


	8. Siruis Black

The first two months of the new year made Hogsmeade as bleak on the outside as Ivy felt on the inside. Out of deference to Rose and Remus (who'd become quite a frequent visitor to the pub after the New Year's Eve party) she'd gone to feeding Blackie at their old meeting place, the craggy rock outcropping on the northeast edge of town. It was the same road down which she and Hagrid had dragged the Christmas tree, back when they'd been friends. For that's how Ivy'd begun to measure time since New Years Eve. Things that happened in her first year at Hogsmeade came under "When Hagrid Was Here." Anything after the first of January, by necessity fell under "Now That He's Gone."

Now That Hagrid Was Gone, Ivy spent a great deal of time on the rocks with Blackie. She couldn't get away daily, but she did her best to come often, and with as much of the pub's scraps as she could carry. Often the weather shortened her visits with her shaggy black companion, but even a little time with him seemed to ease her mind. 

Blackie didn't care if Ivy had any magic or not. Ivy was convinced that he'd still come to her even if she stopped bringing hambones. He sat on the rocks with her because he enjoyed her company, and somehow, in his doggy way, he knew she needed him. And he was right. 

More than once she wished he could speak to her, tell her where he'd been before Hogsmeade. She got the feeling that whoever had him before had been very uncaring, maybe even abusive. She'd caught a certain haunted look in his eyes every now and then, especially when he first bounded out of the forest to greet her. The look always faded quickly, but it saddened Ivy just the same. 

"They say it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all," she told him one warm spring morning. "Do you believe that, Blackie? Do you think I'm better off having known but lost my friend Hagrid? 'Cause lately I've been wondering if it might have been better for me to never have come here at all. I'd still have Rose's friendship. But not yours. And I'd have never met Remus. Or Zack Zonko. He's been hanging around the pub lately. And he's very sweet. But he's not... I mean... I'm not..."

She sighed and glanced toward the vulture tree, where half of the flock sat hunched on their branches, while the other half made lazy circles in the sky. 

"He's not Hagrid and I'm not even remotely in love with him." she finished flatly. She looked at Blackie for a long time, drinking in the reassurance she saw in his eyes. 

"I wish you could talk to me," she whispered, bending over to press her forehead against his. "Rose is busy tending to Remus, and Remus is... Remus has Hogwarts. And Hagrid hasn't been to the Three Broomsticks for months. Willa doesn't want to talk to me, so it's all down to you, Blackie. You're all I have left."

The dog let out a low, soft whine and wagged his tail, reaching up to lick her cheek repeatedly. Ivy laughed. The sound surprised her, and she realized that it had been a long time since she'd heard it. She wrapped her arms around the dog's neck for a minute and pulled him close. Moments later, he pulled away with a whine that turned into a yelp. He splashed one last doggy kiss across Ivy's nose, then dashed across the road and into the forest.

"Blackie!" Ivy called after him. She turned around to see what had scared him off, hoping it wasn't Remus or Rose. But whoever was approaching was coming from the woods, _crashing_ through the woods. Ivy felt a cold tendril of fear snake itself around her heart. She clutched at her robe, afraid to run, and afraid not to. She glanced up at the vulture tree. Every bird in the flock had taken to wing. She turned her eyes back to the woods just in time to see Hagrid walking down the path. The fear that should have dissipated at the sight of him did not leave her, and realizing that nearly broke her heart.

"Ivy," he stopped short, just across the stream that ran parallel to the road out of Hogsmeade. "What'er you doin' way out here?"

Ivy shrugged, momentarily speechless. Hagrid was a mess. He'd been drinking (she could smell) and crying (she could see). His hair was beyond tangled, and as much as she wanted to run across the road to him, a cold whisper in her mind held her back.

__

He KNOWS, Ivy. He doesn't want you anymore.

But he needs... Before she knew it she'd taken a step forward, eyes blurred with tears.

"Hagrid... What's wrong?" 

He grunted a little, then crossed the stream in one quick step. "It's Beaky," he said flatly. "They've made a decision. They're comin' to do it in a couple a weeks." 

He continued past her, leaving her to stand alone in the middle of the street.

"Do what?" she asked, following along like a stray puppy. She reached out to put a hand on his arm and he shuddered.

"They're takin'... his... head," he said, bobbing his head as though he was having to explain something to a very small child. Or an idiot. He was staring at her hand on his arm, and she saw a funny look cross his features. A look of deepest sorrow, which was followed by one of contemptuous resignation. She'd seen that look before. And she dropped her hand when she realized just where. 

It was the same look her father had given her when he'd handed her a one way ticket to Melbourne, Australia.

She took a step away from him, then another, and before she knew it, she was running. Running to the only place she had left to go, to Rose and the Three Broomsticks pub.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What was that all about?" Remus asked, his eyes following Ivy as she rushed past them both and up the stairs to her room.

"I don't know," Rose murmured, rounding the bar to follow her. "But I reckon I'm going to find out." She mounted the stairs two at a time, then quietly entered the bedroom they shared.

"Ivy?" She whispered, crossing the room in two quick steps. 

Ivy had thrown herself across her bed, and would not look up when Rose spoke her name. Her shoulders were shaking, and the sobs that came from her throat were like nothing Rose had heard since... since Ivy and her father had buried Elana.

Rose sat down beside her on the narrow bed. She stroked her friend's hair for a long moment, then called her name again. 

"Ivy. What is it? What's going on?"

Ivy sat up and threw herself into Rosie's arms. 

"I saw Hagrid on the road. Going to the Hog's Head. He said they're going to execute Buckbeak in a few weeks."

"And you're upset about the hippogriff?" Rose prodded gently.

Ivy shook her head. "No, Rose. He almost didn't stop to speak to me. And when he did he had this look on his face. I'll never forget it as long as I live. He knows I'm not magic. He must have found out at Christmas. He doesn't want to be anywhere near me. He loathes me, and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, Ivy," Rose said. "He can't know you're not magic. Nobody's told him. Maybe it's something else. Maybe he was just upset about Buckbeak. You know how he gets about his pets." 

"No!" Ivy all but shouted. "He KNOWS. I saw it in his eyes. I thought he was my friend. I thought it wouldn't matter. But I was wrong. And if this is how _he_ feels, and _he_ was my friend... what would the others think if they knew?" 

She turned her back on Rose and put her face in her hands. When she raised her head, Rose was shocked by what she saw. Ivy's face was livid. She looked as though she'd just been hit in the stomach with a boulder. Her usual neat braid had worked itself out on the long run back to the pub, and chestnut hair fell across her shoulders in a mass of tangles. The slack-jawed look on her face unnerved Rose for a minute.

"None of them would bother with me at all if they Knew, Rose. Zack Zonko would never come back. Remus Lupin would leave. The fact is, I'm living a lie here. And if my so-called friends knew the truth, you'd be the only one left. Pigs don't fly Rosmerta. Everything's better off with it's own kind. I should have stayed with the Muggles. That's where I belong." 

"That's not true, Ivy," a masculine voice came from the bedroom doorway. Remus Lupin stepped boldly across the threshold, although his cheeks did redden a little at the thought of entering their bedroom.

"I've known about you since back in September when you were attacked by the dementor. I suspected before that. And I haven't deserted you. I don't know what's bothering Hagrid, but I don't think it has anything to do with magic. Or your lack of it."

Ivy turned a tear-stained face in his direction.

"You knew?" she asked skeptically. "Who told you?"

"Rose did." he said crossing the room to sit on Rose's bed, so he could face her.

"But before you go off on Rose, let me finish."

"Rose?" Ivy questioned pitifully, feeling as though she'd just been set adrift in the middle of a storm tossed ocean.

"Remus," Rose protested. "I did no such thing."

"You did, Rosie, you just don't remember. It was a very long time ago. Years ago. When your foster mother died, and Ivy left for Australia. I was a third year at Hogwarts and you..." He smiled a little at the memory.

"You were the prettiest waitress ever hired on at the Three Broomsticks."

He glanced at Ivy, who's curiosity was piqued. 

"She was also the most lost and lonely person I'd ever met. I struck up conversation one day during a Hogsmeade Weekend. Do you remember yet, Rose? My friends dared me."

Rose gave him a ghost of a smile. "You told me I looked as though I'd just lost my best friend. And I told you that I had."

"And you told me about Ivy. And Elana. And all the happy years you had living with the Ollivanders."

"You were a great listener," Rose said, sighing softly. For a moment Ivy was forgotten, as Rose remembered when she'd first met Remus Lupin and his friends. 

"You know how envious the others were when you decided to talk to me?" Lupin joked. "Peter Pettigrew kept begging me to introduce him. Even Sirius was envious..."

Lupin's eyes lost their focus for a long moment, then refocused. "I wasn't sure that Ivy was the girl you told me about at first, but I had my suspicions. And when she didn't see the dementor that attacked her, I knew for sure."

"You knew?" Ivy whispered.

"I put two and two together. I didn't get some sort of message out of the sky or anything. I spent lots of time at the pub back then, Ivy. Sometimes Rose read me your letters. Nothing personal," he assured as Ivy raised her eyebrows. "But they helped me get to know you a little. Enough so that when you showed up here, I truly wanted you to be happy."

"So it _was_ you," Ivy muttered. "Back at Halloween when I almost spilled the stew on Percy Weasley. And the butterbeer on Professor Flitwick. That's what you meant when you said you'd come to see if I needed any help."

She gave him a long and searching look.

"As sick as you were that day. You came here to help me. To make sure that I wouldn't slip up and blow my cover. How can I ever thank you?"

"By believing in who you are, Ivy. Believe that the people who love you don't care if you have magic or not."

"That's not so easy," she whispered, turning her face away. She remembered that voice inside her that seemed only too content to remind her that what Remus said was impossible. 

__

Pigs don't fly, Ivy

Remus reached for her hands and took them both in his. "The people who love you will love you no matter what," he repeated. "I've seen more proof of that in this lifetime than you would believe."

"You, Remus?" Ivy asked coldly. "You have no worries. What on earth could you have to hide? You're not leading some double life, fearful all the time that someone's going to find out and rat on you. And then they'll _all_ turn away. You can't possibly make me believe that you know how this feels."

Remus Lupin laughed out loud. His laughter had a high, bitter sound to it that gave Ivy a chill.

"You don't think so?" he wondered. "Then maybe I should tell you a story. A tale about a little boy who was bitten by a werewolf. Do you know what happens to little boys who are bitten by werewolves... hmmm?" Remus sat on Rose's bed and ran a hand through his hair. "You don't have a corner on the secrets market, Ivy."

Ivy's head snapped up, and she looked in his eyes. Remus sounded as though he were telling the world's biggest joke, but the harsh edge in his voice revealed that the joke was on him.

"Do you know how many of Hogsmeade's finest would shun _me_ if they knew what _I _am? Do you know how long my job would last up at Hogwarts if that particular secret got out? Do you know that one of my childhood enemies is now a colleague of mine, and would just as soon expose me as spit in my direction?" 

"Professor Snape?" Ivy asked in a very small voice.

"Yes, Ivy, Professor Snape. Every month he brews up a Wolfsbane Potion, and I drink it and wonder if he accidentally left something out. On purpose. He had our third year students do an essay on werewolves while I was sick. In the hopes that someone would figure it out and let the wolf out of the bag. But I know who my friends are. Rose here has taken care of me, watched over me in her Animagus form to make sure nothing went wrong while I was under the influence of Snape's potion. Headmaster Dumbledore went to great lengths to hire me in the first place. You've got to learn to trust the ones you love most, Ivy. If they really love you, what you are won't matter. Only who."

He stood to his feet, rubbing a hand across his brow and walking back and forth across the room.

"I don't know what's eating Hagrid. But I'll try to find out. If that's what you want."

"I just want my old friend back," Ivy whispered. She rose to her feet and stood uncertainly before Lupin, then threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Remus," she said. "For everything."

"Don't thank me, Ivy. This is what friends are for."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But Remus never got to have his talk with Hagrid. Near the end of the school year he was exposed as a werewolf and resigned his professorship at Hogwarts. He spent the night before his departure at the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta closed the pub early so she, Ivy and Remus could spend their last few hours together uninterrupted.

"I think this is all so ridiculous," Ivy said, sitting down after bringing a round of drinks to the table.

"Why can't Remus just stay here in Hogsmeade? He could work here with us, Rose. Or I could go work for Zack Zonko. He's offered more than once... Then Remus could work for you."

"I can't stay in Hogsmeade, Ivy. But it's nice to know you'd do all that for me."

"That's what friends are for, remember?" She took a long swallow of mead. Her face contorted in a grimace of distaste as she set the tankard down. "Should have stuck to butterbeer," she muttered.

"Rose," she continued. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

Rose wasn't saying much. She had opened a bottle of her best brandy and kept toying absently with the snifter. It occurred to Ivy that she looked as though she'd just lost her best friend.

"I don't know _what_ to do," she whispered. "I wish I did."

"I'm not dead, you know," Remus chided, though the words had a hollow ring.

"I'll get settled somewhere. And then I'll come and visit."

"You promise?" Ivy asked.

"I swear it on my life."

Ivy stood to her feet then and picked up her tankard. "I'm getting rid of this nasty stuff," she told them, then she disappeared into the kitchen.

As soon as she was gone, Remus reached across the table and grasped Rose's hand.

"There's something I need to tell you," he started. This was the hardest part of leaving: saying goodbye. But he couldn't leave Hogsmeade with the most important things left unsaid. Rose had gone to great lengths for him during his stay at Hogwarts, and he was grateful. More than grateful. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could choke out the words, a scream rang out from the kitchen.

Before he could stop it, a curse flew out of Lupin's mouth. He squeezed Rose's hand and stood up, bending over to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

"I'll go check on Ivy," he said. "You stay right there. I'll be back straight away."

He made his way into the kitchen, still cursing himself for forgetting such a very major detail.

Ivy was backing away from the doorway clutching her chest. Her eyes were huge with fright. When she saw Remus enter the kitchen, she ran to hide behind him.

"There's someone out there," she whispered. "I saw someone on the back step."

"I know, Ivy. I was supposed to get you prepared for this, but it slipped my mind. Rose has taken my leaving so hard."

"What does Rose have to do with the man I saw outside?" Ivy asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Nothing, Ivy. That man outside is here to see you. And you don't have to be afraid to go out after dark, anymore. Dumbledore sent the dementors away. Come out here with me. I'd like you to meet an old friend."

"No!" Ivy whispered. "He doesn't look friendly. He looks... scary. Just like the picture of that man in the paper. The one escaped from Azkaban."

"So now you think he's scary, do you?" Lupin grinned. "You've been caring for him for months against my better judgment, and you weren't a bit afraid of him then."

"What are you talking about Remus? I never saw that man before in my life."

Remus shook his head in frustration, then took hold of Ivy's sleeve. "Just come outside and meet him. I promise he won't hurt you. As a matter of fact, I swear it."

She gave him a dubious look, but allowed him to lead her out onto the back step. The man she'd spied earlier was still there, looking a bit downcast, and toying with something silver that flashed in his hands.

"Sorry Sirius," Remus said sheepishly. "I forgot to tell Ivy you'd be coming by tonight. She got caught by surprise."

A ghost of a smile played on the man's lips. "So I heard."

"Ivy, may I present Sirius Black. I believe you know him as Blackie."

Ivy swayed against Lupin, who caught her deftly as she legs buckled.

"That's not Blackie, Remus," she said, her voice high, as though she was the last voice of reason in a sea of insanity. "Blackie is a dog. A big black shaggy dog who loves ham bones and..." she stepped forward and took a closer look at Sirius. "He's shaggy. And black. An he's a _dog_, Remus. Say he's a dog and you're playing a monstrous trick on me." 

But something told her he wasn't. Something in Black's eyes broke through Ivy's unbelief. And something else caused her to legs to betray her one last time. This time Remus wasn't quick enough, and she ended up flat on her bottom on Rose's back step. She remembered where she'd heard the name Sirius Black. He _was_ the one who'd escaped from Azkaban prison.

"Remus is telling the truth, Ivy. And I know it comes as a shock. I apologize for that. I would have told you myself, but you see, they've been after me. I couldn't show my face around here. Not this face, anyway."

"But you could show the face of a big black dog..." Ivy's voice trailed away. She studied him from her position on the step. He was gaunt, and fragile looking, as though one good gust of wind might topple him there in the street. 

"Yes. As Blackie I was safe," Sirius continued. "At least as long as you were around. You took care of me for a long time, Ivy. I couldn't leave without saying thank you. And goodbye." 

Remus gave him an encouraging nod, then disappeared, closing the door discreetly behind him. He didn't think it would be hard to entertain Rose long enough for his friend Black to say farewell to Ivy.

"And I hope you believe me when I say that I'm not guilty of those things they said I did. I'm _not _a murderer. Can you believe that, Ivy?"

The way he said those words made Ivy realize that it must be important to him that she did believe him. She watched, still shocked and numb to the core, as he sat down beside her.

"Blackie wasn't a murderer," she muttered. "He never once tried to hurt me. He was kind... and very gentlemanly. If you can say that about a dog." 

Slowly another thought gained recognition in Ivy's overtaxed mind. She rubbed her brow with a hand. "If you _are_ Blackie, then you know everything about me. I told you all my deepest secrets. You know I'm not magic..."

Sirius gave her an embarrassed smile. "My mind is a bit simpler when I'm in dog form, Ivy. I really don't remember everyth -"

"But you do!" Ivy stopped him. "I can see it in your eyes. I told you everything."

"You've nothing to be ashamed of." He put a hand on her knee, and Ivy couldn't help but think of the countless times Blackie's paw had rested in the very same place. "Really. And that's not even remotely why I'm here."

"Why are you here, then?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you this," he said, leaning over to give her the splash of silver he held in his hands.

"And to thank you for keeping me so well. I would have starved to death this winter, if it hadn't been for you."

Something cold and metal slid into her hand. She gasped as she opened her fist, revealing a silver bracelet in her palm. Two charms hung from its links. One was a shaggy dog. The other was a pig.

She laughed through sudden tears as she examined the bracelet. "A pig?"

"Try as he might, Remus couldn't find me a charm in the shape of a ham bone."

Ivy's hand flew to her mouth. "You really are... him."

"I'm sorry I had to trick you this way, Ivy. Dreadfully sorry." Awkwardly, as though out of practice, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight for a long, silent moment. 

"You and Harry mean more to me than anybody. I didn't want to deceive you. You've got to believe me. If you don't -"

"I do," she broke in. "I believe you, Blackie." He released her and she managed a grin. "I always wished you could talk. Remember?"

Sirius nodded. He took the bracelet from her and wrapped it around her wrist.

"Did you say you came to say good-bye?" Ivy asked, shaking her arm to admire the bracelet. Sirius ran his hand down her arm and his fingers linked with hers. He gave her hand a squeeze, and Ivy stared at their fingers laced together. No mess, no fireworks. Just her and Blackie, together. She squeezed his hand back.

"I have to go away, for now." he nodded. "I did come here with murder in my heart, Ivy. But something amazing happened to me yesterday. My godson Harry and some friends of his nearly cleared my name. And better than that, Harry told me he believes I'm innocent. So does Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm afraid it's not quite enough, though." He stopped, embarrassed by the non-stop flow of words that gushed from his mouth. 

"It's a rather long story."

"I'd like to hear it," Ivy said simply. "I haven't even met your Harry. And after all the hours I talked your ear off..."

"Perhaps we could... ah... go for a walk?" Sirius asked. "I wouldn't ask, but I feel a little vulnerable sitting out in the open like this. The dementors are gone, but..."

"But what?" she asked, rising to her feet. 

"If I'm captured they've been given permission by the Ministry of Magic to perform their most hidious of punishments. It's called the Dementor's Kiss."

"It sounds dreadful," Ivy shuddered, following him down the steps.

"It _is_ dreadful," Sirius agreed. "It's their last and most extreme punishment. They steal your very soul right out of your body."

Ivy gasped, then ducked into the shadows.

"You're not scared to go for a walk in the dark?" Sirius asked, following close behind her.

"Not if you're with me. We can walk out to the vulture tree. I want to see..."

"If they're still around?"

Ivy nodded. It felt odd to be so comfortable around a stranger; like she'd known him forever, and they'd always been best friends. The strength of the bond between them was so strong that he could finish her thoughts.

"One thing first," Sirius said as they melted into the trees. He pulled her close and kissed her, soundly. "I know how you feel about Hagrid, but I want you to promise me something."

She nodded, wide-eyed and speechless.

"When my name is cleared, if he's still treating you badly, will you... I mean.. could you..?" he floundered for an awkward moment, then brought her hands to his lips, that ghost of a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

"Forget about him and..." Ivy couldn't finish for him this time. Finally, she whispered, "You already have part of my heart, Blackie. You always will."

He gave her a sad little laugh and drew her into his arms.

"Reckon that's more than I had when I first came to Hogsmeade."

Ivy was beginning to melt beneath his haunted gaze. "Maybe you shouldn't forget the way back, then." She searched his face, overwhelmed by the chain of events that had led her to this place in the shadows. Remus Lupin's old advice rang in her ears. "If someone really loves you, what you are won't matter. Only _who_."

Sirius stole an even greater part of her heart, as he bent to kiss her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearly dawn when Ivy headed back toward the pub, eyes downcast and full of emotion. She'd never felt so happy and sad at one time. But then she'd never gained a friend and lost him all in the very same night.

She walked slowly toward the pub, glancing every now and then into the sky. For that's where she'd last seen Sirius riding away. On Hagrid's hippogriff, of all things. Buckbeak had been hidden in the woods not far from the vulture tree. 

Ivy had approached with great respect, and when the fierce looking creature had given its permission, she'd stroked him reverently. She didn't know how he'd managed to escape the executioner's ax, but she was overjoyed that he had. And suddenly the hippogriff pendant around her neck became a greater treasure still. 

Now Blackie was gone, though. Disappearing into the predawn darkness and Ivy's life at the same time. She knew that Remus would soon be gone as well.

Dwelling on lost friends, Ivy didn't notice Hagrid fall in step with her for nearly half a block, but when she did, she stopped in her tracks.

He stopped beside her, saluting her with a big brown bottle.

"Ivy! Ha' ya heard the news? Beaky escaped. They come to take off his head an' he was there. Nex' minute he was gone. Nobody's seen him all night."

Ivy gave the giant a funny little smile.

"That _is_ good news Hagrid." She resumed her walking, and he followed. She wondered how long it would be until he wondered what she was doing out so late. Or early. Hagrid seemed content to walk and not ask questions.

When they came to the pub's back step, Ivy sat down. 

"Want to sit a while?" she asked hopefully. 

The giant grunted and sat down beside her. He reeked of whatever he'd been drinking out of the bottle at his side. He must have caught her looking at it, because he gave her a sheepish grin.

"I bin celebratin' Beaky's escape."

Ivy smiled. "I'm glad he got away. More than you'll ever know, Hagrid." Her fingers grasped the silver hippogriff around her neck.

"I bin meanin' to stop by an' talk to ya," the giant said, fervently studying the toe of his boot. "I treated ya bad las' time I saw ya. Twern't right, avoidin' ya like I have, an I'm sorry."

"We _have_ been missing you around here," Ivy admitted. "Wondering if you'd be coming back."

"I'll be back, Ivy. Jus' bin a bloody coward, is all."

"You? A coward?" she asked, wondering if whatever he was afraid of had only been chased away temporarily by the swill in his bottle. "I just figured you'd gotten tired of me beating you at cards." 

Hagrid buried his face in his hands and rubbed vigorously. Ivy's hand went to his shoulder of its own free will. They sat and watched the sun come up together, neither one speaking, both of them searching the sky for a hippogriff they hoped they wouldn't see.


	9. Tournament Tales

"It's going to be a long, dull, boring summer without Remus or Blackie," Ivy announced one morning near the end of June. She stood polishing and re-polishing the bar, and wondering what she could do to make Rosie smile again.

"Your dog gone, too?" Rose asked, glancing up from the table where she was sitting and eating her breakfast.

Ivy blanched, and rubbed madly at an imaginary spot on the bar. "Well..." she floundered. She hadn't meant to bring Blackie up to Rose, afraid she'd ask questions Ivy couldn't answer. "I haven't seen him in a few weeks. I figured that maybe he found somebody else to take care of him."

"He won't find anybody with meatier ham bones."

Ivy grinned. "Ain't that the truth." Her eyes narrowed as she wondered if her old friend was getting enough to eat wherever he'd gone. She had yet to get a letter from him, and she worried.

"I miss Remus," she muttered. Now that he was gone, there was no one with whom to share her thoughts about Sirius Black. She couldn't breath a word about him to Rosie, and there was so much she wanted to say. 

"I do too," Rose sighed, pushing her breakfast away. "But there's nothing we can do to bring him back. Can we talk about something else?"

"Alright," Ivy agreed. "But..."

"But what, Ivy?" Rose asked, that heavy sigh issuing forth from her mouth one more time.

"Do you think we'll ever see him again?"

"Of course we will. He promised. And..." Rose flashed a secretive smile that quickly vanished as she stood to her feet.

"And...?" Ivy prodded. "And what?"

"I'm sure he'll be back. He told me he loved me."

Ivy let loose a little scream of delight and rounded the bar to give her friend a squeeze.

"That's wonderful, Rosie," she marveled.

"It's horrible," Rosie replied. "Do you know how hard it is to be separated from the one you love?"

Ivy laughed out loud. "Yeah, I think I do. I was separated from you for almost 20 years, remember?"

Rose managed a laugh at that one. The first she'd mustered since Remus left Hogsmeade. 

"So..." Ivy pressed her. "How did it happen? I mean... when did you know that you were in love?"

Rose stared at her friend, but Ivy could tell by her unfocused glaze that she wasn't seeing her surroundings. 

"I was watching him for Professor Dumbledore," she started. "Whenever I disappeared from the pub, that's where I was. The Wolfsbane Potion is a new discovery. He can actually control the werewolf part of him when he drinks it. But they wanted to be sure...

"I have an Aminagus form Ivy. I've never told you about it, but when I was younger... I needed something to keep my mind off things."

"Things?" Ivy asked.

Rose smiled, but it was a sad smile, and there was an ache behind her eyes that Ivy'd never noticed before.

"Ivy," she began. "I don't think anybody on this planet knows how much you and your mother meant to me. You were my haven. I never really felt hurt that my father couldn't keep me, because I had Elana. Then you. And when I lost you both... I..."

Ivy reached out to squeeze Rosemerta's hand. She remembered the day her mother had explained to her how they'd come to adopt Rosie. The older girl's mother had been Elana's best friend. But when she'd died in childbirth, and Rose's father had rejected the baby, Elana was quick to take her in. 

__

"He wouldn't even look at her, Ivy," Elana told her sadly. "I stood there with the baby in my arms, only minutes old, and he told me to take her away. He was heartbroken, you see. He kept trying to wake Rosie's mother, and there was blood. Oh, Ivy it was everywhere. He stopped me at the door, and said 'You will call her Rosmerta, for that's what she's done.' It was very, very sad."

"What does it mean, Mum?" Ivy had asked, not understanding. "Rosmerta?"

Elana had looked at Ivy for a long time before she'd answered. "You're a big girl now, Ivy, and I need your promise that'll you'll never tell Rosie. It would make her very sad. Will you swear it?"

Ivy'd nodded most solemnly. Her mother had never asked her to swear to anything before.

"It means red death. Her father blamed her for the death of her mother. But it wasn't the baby's fault. It was just... It happened, and there's no one to blame. Now let's talk about something happy shall we? And don't forget your promise."

Ivy hadn't forgotten. Rose had always been just Rose to her. Big sister, best friend, but never anything as hideous as the cause of someone's death. No... That title had gone to Ivy when Elana died. A lump rose in Ivy's throat, as she turned her attention back to her friend.

"You became an Animagus?" she reminded.

"Yes," Rose smiled. "Professor Dumbledore taught me. That was before he became Headmaster. We chose the form of a merlin. A little hawk. I liked it because of the name. And because I could fly. Professor Dumbledore like it because he could train me to obey him, when I was in bird form. It took a lot of work, but I never felt so free. When he needed someone to watch over Remus, the merlin was perfect. A hawk couldn't control a werewolf, but it _could_ fly to Dumbledore, if anything went wrong.

"So I watched Remus, Ivy. For a long time he didn't even know I was there. I don't think anybody realizes how painful his affliction is. I can only admire Albus all the more for giving him a chance to prove himself. Remus was a great teacher."

She looked at Ivy again, but this time her eyes were clear. 

"That's how I fell for Remus Lupin. Watching him struggle against insurmountable odds, and seeing him win. Even if it was only for a little while."

"I'm sorry he had to leave, Rosie."

Rose smiled at Ivy, tears shining unshed in her eyes.

"We're quite a pair, aren't we?" she announced, throwing an arm across Ivy's shoulders. She wiped her nose and picked up the plate she'd used for breakfast. 

"There's got to be something we can do to liven up the summer, love. I've been thinking..."

"What?" Ivy pressed. She reached up and brushed a tear off Rosie's cheek.

"Maybe we can add some American dishes to our menu. Like lasagna or... what's that fish stuff they eat over there? Sushi?"

Ivy giggled.

"What?"

"Lasagna's technically Italian. And sushi... I think that's Japanese."

"I don't care, Ivy. I'm dead tired of Monday night Yorkshire pudding, Tuesday night steak-and-kidney pie. We can do better. I'm sure of it."

Ivy gave her hand a squeeze.

"What do they eat in Australia?"

"Deep-fried 'gator tail on a stick," Ivy teased, broadening her vowel sounds to give herself a more pronounced accent. 

"I'm joking," she insisted, as Rose gave her look of unbelief.

"Just how many 'gator tails would it take to fill Hagrid's stomach, you reckon?"

Ivy laughed, then got serious. "I did spend some time in the town of New Orleans, in the States. It's a beautiful city. Very magical. They have the most wonderful Cajun food there. Gumbo and jambalaya and red beans and rice. Very spicy, but really, really good."

"Can you remember how to cook it?"

Ivy thought for a minute. "I think so."

"Good," Rose replied. "Then let's experiment."

Arm in arm, they headed toward the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They spent the summer trying to introduce more exotic foods to the pub's menu, and failing miserably. Zack Zonko was their only repeat customer for gumbo, served on Wednesday nights, but accompanied by the old roast beef and vegetables, just in case.

Zack gave his seal of approval to Ivy's cooking, but everyone else only clamored for more of Rosie's tried and true fare. Ivy didn't let that upset her. In truth, she favored Rosie's cooking just like everybody else.

It was Mid-August when they began to hear rumors of a Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid told them with no uncertainty that the competition was coming to Hogwarts during the next school term. 

"What's a Triwizard Tournament?" Ivy asked, trying to push the last of that night's jambalaya on the giant. Hagrid stared at Ivy like she'd spoken her question in Japanese. 

Taking a spoonful of the stew, he contemplated her as he took a bite.

"Well?" Ivy asked again, but she got no answer this time either, for Hagrid's face had gone beet red, and he began to sputter as one huge hand gripped the bar, and the other felt around for a napkin.

"Ruddy he-"

Ivy snapped to attention and pointed a finger in his direction, totally oblivious to his distress.

"There'll be no cussin' in the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid. Save that kind of talk for the Hog's Head Saloon." She spoke the word 'saloon' with as much distaste as she could muster.

Hagrid's face disappeared behind her proffered napkin. He coughed a bit, then gazed at her from behind it.

"What's that bloody stuff yer tryin' to feed me?" he complained, loud enough that several heads turned in his direction. But the other customers in the pub had already sampled Ivy's culinary delights. They only laughed at Hagrid's discomfort and turned back to their own meals.

"It's called jambalaya," Ivy stated. "And there's nothing wrong with it." 

She leaned over the bar until her face was very close to his. "You eat stoat sandwiches, Hagrid. Surely a little bit of this won't kill you." 

Hagrid smirked in her direction, took the bowl in both hands and set it ever so gently on her side of the bar. Ivy couldn't help but grin a little.

"I'll take whatever Mr. _Honeyduke_ is havin'."

Ivy bent her knee in a mock curtsey before him, took the bowl of jambalaya, and marched into the kitchen.

"It's official," she told Willa. "Even Hagrid hates my cooking. And I already know that you do. I think we should take these off the menu."

"Madam Rosie tells Willa what to be takin' off the menu," Willa reminded, dishing up a plate full of sausages and fried potatoes for Hagrid. "Not Ivy."

Ivy let out a laugh of unbelief.

"You know, a girl could begin to think she wasn't very well liked around here." She took the plate and headed toward the bar, catching Hagrid's eye. "What with the way I'm treated by the kitchen help. And you..."

"I'm a payin' cust'mer, Ivy," Hagrid teased, taking a huge bite of sausage and giving her an over-exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. "An' the cust'mer's a'ways right."

"Well then maybe this particular customer won't mind when I beat him at cards later." She poked his arm with her index finger. "And maybe you'll tell me what a Triwizard Tournament is."

Hagrid gave her that funny look again, and set down his fork. "I can't believe ya never heard about the Triwizard Tournament, Ivy. Were ya livin' on th' moon?"

"Nearly."

Hagrid studied her for a moment, then wagged his great head in her direction. "Tha' explains a lot."

Ivy stomped her foot in mock outrage, but couldn't deny how glad she was to be able to banter with Hagrid again. She'd missed him sorely, and having him back in her life meant more to Ivy than she could express. She was careful not to be too clingy, or moonstruck, as Rose had called it. She resolved on a nightly basis to broach the subject of her 'condition' with him, but just as nightly, lost her nerve. The fear that her lack of magical ability was what had run him off the first time consumed her, and Ivy'd determined not to lose Hagrid again.

"The Triwizard Tournament is when the three biggest schools a' witchcraft an' wizardry come together in a gran' competition. It'll be Hogwarts champion against that a' Durmstrang an' Bo... Bo... " He struggled with the pronunciation of the third school.

"Beauxbatons," Rose rescued him, rounding the bar with a tray of dirty dishes.

"It'll mean lots of business this year Ivy. That'll be a nice change. We may even have to hire someone to help out." She continued into the kitchen with her load.

"Why don't you just go get us another disrespectful house elf?" Ivy called after her. Turning back to Hagrid, she continued. "We could use more business, though. The whole town's emptied out for the Quidditch World Cup."

"Wouldn'a minded bein' there meself," Hagrid agreed. "The folks from t' other schools'll get 'ere in October. Dumbledore says they'll pick their champions Halloween night."

"And what do 'champions' do?"

"Complete some sorta magical task, a'course. Three of 'em."

"Tasks, or champions?" 

"Both," Hagrid informed. "Three champions. Three tasks. The one who does best is th' winner."

"And what do they win?" Ivy ventured one more question.

"They win th' Triwizard Tournament, Ivy. 'T's what we're talkin' 'bout, ain't it?"

She giggled. And Hagrid's face turned red.

"I meant... is there a prize? A trophy? A purse?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hagrid muttered, clearly not as amused with the conversation as Ivy. "One thousand galleons goes t' the winner."

"Who will the Hogwarts champion be?"

"I tole ya, nobody knows that 'til Halloween."

"Oh yes, you mentioned that earlier." Ivy smiled. "It sounds like the ancient Olympics in Greece." 

They chatted on in like fashion a while longer, and when the last customers left, Ivy served herself some sausages and sat across the bar from Hagrid to eat them. She told him some stories about those first ancient contests between the Greeks, then the conversation turned to other tales. Ivy still had enough teacher in her to enjoy the conversation, and found that she actually missed the subject of mythology.

"Have you ever heard of the word _estonehenge_?" Ivy asked, eyes sparkling. Hagrid shook his head while taking another bite of sausage.

"It means 'Dance of The Giants'. It's a very old story. About a powerful boy wizard and his friends, one who happened to be a little giant."

"Little giant?" Hagrid asked, intrigued.

Ivy nodded. "His name was Shim. And his only dream was to be big. To do something big. As big as his heart."

"Did his dream come true?"

"Yes," Ivy told him, grinning. "Yes it did. He began the Dance of the Giants, which destroyed an evil castle and the hold it had on the magical island where they lived. All that was left of that place was a bunch of humongous stones. And later on, the wizard grew up and moved those stones. And called their new place 'Stonehenge'."

"Dance Of The Giants," Hagrid concluded, lost in thought.

Looking back, Ivy would always categorize that night as one of most enjoyable evenings she'd ever spent in Hagrid's company. And although she didn't know it as they made conversation over a tankard of mead and a goblet of gillywater, it would be a very long time before she had the opportunity to chat with him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	10. Madam Maxime

Two weeks after celebrating the anniversary of her first year in Hogsmeade, Ivy met Harry Potter. The usual crowd filled the pub for dinner, and Ivy was in the kitchen helping Willa finish up a Yorkshire pudding. She was peeking in on some roasting vegetables when the back door opened a crack. Her thoughts went immediately to Blackie. Dropping the fork she'd been using to test the vegetables, she turned and flung the door wide open.

"Blackie?" she whispered into the twilight.

"He told me you'd probably think I was him," a disembodied voice spoke from somewhere close to the rubbish bin.

Then the strangest thing Ivy'd ever seen happened right before her eyes. One minute the alley was empty, the next, a young boy began to appear. He didn't Apparate, like Ivy'd seen Rose do, it was more like he _unfolded_. First his head appeared, grinning a little sheepishly, then his shoulders and the rest of him. He held a hand out to her, but she was hesitant to take it, for the arm it should have been attached to didn't seem to be there.

"Sorry," he said, pulling on something that became visible as he placed it carefully on Rose's back steps. "Invisibility cloak. I couldn't get away without it. I'm Harry. Harry Potter. You must be Ivy. A mutual friend sent me."

Ivy's eyes grew wide, and she descended the steps toward him in two quick jumps.

"You're Harry Potter?" she asked, feeling stupid even as the question escaped from her mouth. She took his hand, and shook it vigorously. 

Harry nodded. "Snuffles sent me. Wait. I think you called him something else..."

"Blackie," Ivy murmured. Thoughts of the gaunt faced Sirius Black flooded her mind.

"He's alright, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Harry assured her. "He wrote me a letter. Told me to come down and meet you."

"Oh heavens!" Ivy declared. "Where are my manners? Would you like some dinner? We have Yorkshire pudding tonight. And roasted potatoes, carrots and corn."

"Thanks, no," Harry replied. "I ate up at the castle, earlier. And I can't really come in... I'm not technically supposed to be here."

"Sneaking out, are you?" Ivy grinned, at home with the boy at once. She'd spent years teaching children his age, so she wasn't a stranger to their antics.

"Well.... Let's just say if certain people knew I'd come down here from Hogwarts, they wouldn't be too happy."

"You couldn't be talking about one of our favorite Marauders, could you? I mean... he'd be happy to see you, no matter what. You mean a great deal to him, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "You must mean a lot to him too. He wrote a whole letter about you."

Ivy grinned. "He did?"

Harry nodded. "About how you fed him ham bones all winter."

That made Ivy laugh. But the sound was cut short when she remembered the Yorkshire pudding. She ran back up the steps, and then turned back to Harry.

"Oh, come on into the kitchen. No one will see you if you keep that invisibility thing on." 

Harry flipped the cloak around his shoulders and followed Ivy into the kitchen.

At least she assumed he did.

She checked on the pudding, pronouncing it done and pulling it out of the oven, while Willa pulled plates down from their cupboard. From the corner of her eye, Ivy saw a chair slide out from the table of its own accord. She picked up an empty platter and walked out to the bar.

"I'll fill orders tonight, Rosie," she announced. "Call me if you need me out here."

Rose nodded, looking up from the table she was polishing. It wasn't unusual for them to take turns waiting tables and filling orders.

"I have a feeling it'll be quiet tonight anyway, Ivy, now that everybody's settled up at Hogwarts." 

Ivy turned back to the kitchen and began spreading things out on the table.

"So he's alright then," she asked the 'empty' chair. 

"Seems to be," Harry said, grinning. He liked Ivy. Her obvious affection for Black made him feel comfortable at once. And the fact that she hadn't gone and scolded him outright for being off school property spoke volumes. He pulled off the cloak that hid him.

"He asked me to check on you," he told her. "And let him know how you were getting along. He said you didn't have many people to talk to."

Ivy sighed. "That's true. Since Blackie left, I've no one to tell my secrets to. I thought about getting a puppy. A nice shaggy black one. But it wouldn't be the same." She glanced at her arrangement of plates and serving dishes.

"Wait a minute," she said, reaching into a pocket. She produced her letter from Sirius. "He told me to keep an eye on you too." Unfolding the letter, she read it's script.

"'PS: I know you'll be meeting Harry soon, and I need you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on him for me. Let me know how he's doing. I'll feel much better knowing you're near if he needs you.'"

To her surprise, Harry fished a long piece of parchment from a pocket. Opening it, he read the same last line along with her, only changing the 'he' into a 'she'.

"He wrote the same thing to you about me?" Ivy asked.

"Yeah," Harry laughed. Ivy noticed a sadness to the sound.

"You miss him, don't you?" she asked.

"A lot," Harry admitted. "I only knew him for a little while, but you can't imagine how it felt to be with somebody who knew my parents. Somebody who cared about me because he was my dad's best friend. I had a real family for a while. But not long enough."

"He told me about Pettigrew getting away." Ivy muttered. "If it's any consolation, I miss him too. We used to sit together for hours. I'd talk his ear off and he'd just... listen. I suppose that's all a dog can do, really. But he seemed to understand. I'll never forget when I found out he wasn't just a _dog_. I though Remus Lupin was playing a huge trick on me."

"That's nothing. I tried to kill him."

Ivy's eyes widened. "You didn't."

"I did," Harry shrugged. "Only because I thought he was the one who gave my parents up to Voldemort."

"I'm sure he understood, Harry. You know that... right?"

Harry shrugged again. "I think so. We were both after the same thing, really. Avenging James and Lily Potter. My mum and dad."

Ivy's heart went out to the boy. She knew what it was like to grow up without the ones she loved.

"We can only hope his name is cleared soon, Harry," Ivy muttered. "And until then, we'll do what he asked us to do." Holding out her hand, she presented him her crooked pinky.

He grinned and hooked his little finger up to hers.

"I swear to watch out for you Harry. In honor of Sirius Black."

"I'll keep an eye on you too, Ivy. For Snuffles."

They contemplated each other for a moment, then Harry stood to his feet.

"I should be getting back to the castle."

"Yes you should!" Ivy answered, a little embarrassed for keeping him so long. He pulled the cloak around his shoulders, and Ivy watched as only his head floated toward the back door. Then a hand appeared as he waved goodbye.

"Bye, Ivy. Nice to meet you."

Ivy walked across the kitchen to stand by his side.

"Very nice to meet you, too," she offered. She opened the door while he pulled the cloak over his head, and then he was gone.

Ivy shook her head. "Amazing." She peered into the twilight to see if she could catch any hint of where he was walking, but saw nothing.

"That kid's good," she grinned, turning her attention back to the kitchen, hoping it wouldn't be long 'til she could talk to Harry Potter again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Autumn and the news of the Triwizard Tournament brought more patrons to the Three Broomsticks than Ivy had ever known. Rose hired an older man named Renaldis Renfroe to take over duties at the bar, while she and Ivy waited tables. Three of Willa's cousins came to manage kitchen duties.

Although Ivy knew that many of the more unsavory sort frequented the Hog's Head, she was surprised every day by the myriad of different magicals drawn to Hogsmeade by the Tournament. She met a rowdy group of warlocks, and some vampires with heavy Russian accents. Three trolls attempted to place their order for dinner, but left when Rose refused to serve them their mutton alive and still very much on-the-hoof.

Ivy was sure she'd seen everything, until the night Hagrid came in, bringing along a new acquaintance. She should have realized something was up when the house elves attempted to hold her hostage in the kitchen. She'd finally wrestled a tray of steak-and-kidney pie from Willa and her cousins and headed toward the dining room when she saw them. 

Hagrid stood at the bar, in a horribly hairy dress coat, gobs of thick greasy black stuff in his hair. His face was flushed red, and his eyes held a dreamy look that Ivy remembered from the morning the hippogriffs had been delivered to Hogwart's Station. Although Hagrid's new look was shocking, it wasn't him that made her drop the tray, but the person who stood by his side. (The tray was saved by Rose's quick thinking and levitation spell.)

There was no spell that could levitate Ivy's heart. It dropped to her feet and shattered in pieces. Hagrid wasn't enthralled by a hippogriff, or even a dragon, but a woman. An enormous and beautiful woman he introduced as Madam Maxime. It only took one look for Ivy to figure out that she had as much giant in her ancestry as Hagrid. Her jet black hair was caught in a soft bun at the nape of her neck, and her dark features took in the pub with what could only be described as a look of distain. 

She pulled a massive lace handkerchief out of her long black sleeve and brought it to her nose as Hagrid made his introductions, although Ivy never really got to greet her face to face. By the time they turned to speak to her, she was passed out cold on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, Ivy...."

Ivy woke up at the long kitchen table, amidst a jumble of plates being magically filled by the house elves. Rose patted her shoulder in commiseration, pressing a goblet of gillywater into her hands. Zack Zonko hovered over her as well, wringing his hands and shuffling from foot to foot.

"I want you to take Ivy out of here," Ivy heard Rose say to Zack. "Take her to Honeydukes for a little while. Here." She slipped him a handful of sickles and galleons.

"Keep her there awhile, would you...? Till they close or... whatever. Just..." She leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Just get her out of the pub."

Zack was more than happy to comply, the flesh under his chin jiggling merrily as he flashed Rosie a grin.

"What's the matter with her?" he asked, helping Ivy to her feet.

"Don't ask, Zack. Just do as I say. She's had a bit of a shock and she needs a little air."

Ivy moaned softly and leaned against Zack's shoulder, still dazed by what she'd seen in the pub.

"Go on -" Rose prodded, urging them toward the back stairs. Zack hesitated at the door, and Rose gave him a push.

"Times like these'll pass with a little patience and chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate."

Ivy let Zack lead her down the alley, the dazzle in her brain slowly receding. Even in her disconnected state, she remembered Hagrid standing at the bar, looking incredibly moonstruck over some gigantic woman.

"What was her name again?" she mumbled as they opened the door to Honeyduke's Sweet Shop.

"Who?" Zack asked, taking her hand and leading her across the little shop like a child.

"That woman with Hagrid. Is she... is she magical?"

Zack laughed. "Reckon she's magical, Ivy. She's only headmaster of one of those schools competing in the Tournament. Beauxbatons."

"Headmaster?" Ivy repeated, reaching for a chair and sinking into it gratefully.

Zack nodded, then dropped her hand. "I'll be back in a minute," he explained gently. "I'll be right over there if you need me. I'm going to order you something chocolate, understand?" He pointed to the counter and then bent low to look into her eyes.

Ivy nodded, still numb from the shock of seeing Hagrid so obviously taken with somebody else. Slowly, the feeling of being kicked in the stomach by a mule was fading away. It was being replaced by righteous indignation. By the time Zonko returned to their table, bearing something that looked like a chocolate mountain, she was ready to attack. She snatched Zack's proffered spoon and stabbed it into the confection before her, discovering that the chocolate creme and chocolate chunks were covering up a thick and chewy chocolate brownie.

"So that's the way it ends, is it?" she snipped, scooping up a spoonful of chocolate that was far too big for her mouth.

"All that heartache and worry. And those all night card games I let him win. I'm knitting him socks for ruddy Christmas." She shook her spoon in Zack's direction, then stabbed the brownie mercilessly.

"And he..." she continued around a mouthful of creme. "He brings her right in to the pub, pretty as you please." The brownie and creme delight took another direct hit.

"So that's what this is about?" Zack grinned broadly. "Hagrid?"

"Yes. Hagrid. And Zack.... if you're any friend of mine, you'll... you'll..." tears began to fill her eyes. "You'll get me another one of these."

Zack gave her a funny look, then walked back over to the counter, while Ivy wiped angrily at her tears.

Two chocolate mountains later, the Honeydukes were ready to close up shop. Zack led Ivy into the street, but turned her away from the Three Broomsticks.

"Where are we going?" she asked, following on wobbly legs. 

"Just for a little walk," Zack explained, his patience wearing a little thin. "I thought you might need some exercise. You ate a lot of chocolate in there, Ivy. I was afraid you might start feeling sick. Maybe a walk will clear your head."

"I _am_ feeling sick," Ivy muttered. "Why'd you let me eat all of that?"

"Rose said to drown your sorrows in chocolate. I figured it was a girl thing."

"Drown my sorrows? Now that's a laugh. Sorrows don't drown, Zachary Zonko. They just keep stabbing and stabbing...." She clutched at her stomach and moaned.

"Just a little further," he assured her. Babysitting Ivy while she was in such obvious distress had lost its charm, but the rotund co-owner of Zonko's Joke Shop saw an opportunity he didn't want to miss. If Hagrid was working his way out of Ivy's system, so much the better for him. He took Ivy's hand and led her through a gate and up the path of a house at the very edge of town.

"Where are we?" Ivy asked as Zack pulled out his wand and lit candles and lamps to brighten the cottage's interior.

"My dad owns this house," Zack told her. "Nobody lives here at the moment. But Rose told me not to bring you home until she said so."

"Until Hagrid and that humongous beastly woman left the pub?"

Zack grinned. "Something like that."

He pulled out a chair for Ivy at a quaint little kitchen table, then put a kettle on his magically lit fireplace to make some tea.

"I know where we are..." Ivy said. She rose from her seat to peer through the window into the darkness. "There's the vulture tree. This house must be on the very edge of town."

"Pretty much. Dad wants to sell this old place. We just haven't had time to get down here to clean it up."

Ivy'd stopped listening. She was too busy examining the little house. There were two bedrooms down the tiny hallway. One was large and roomy, with windows that looked out toward the ancient vulture tree. The other was smaller, with a window that looked west, back toward Hogsmeade. The sitting room was small, but cozy, with a fireplace, and large windows facing the street. Everything about the place enchanted Ivy, and as she came back to sit down in the kitchen, some of the heaviness had left her heart.

"How much does he want for it?"

"What?" Zack asked, bringing her a cup of tea.

"How much does you father want for this house?" Ivy repeated. "It's absolutely adorable."

"This old place?" he turned to look at her with one raised eyebrow. "Maybe you need to see it when it's daylight."

"I like it," she stated, in a tone that resembled the one she'd taken while destroying brownies back at Honeydukes.

Zack sat down across the table from her, studying her face. "Really?"

"Yes, I do," she reasserted. 

A slow smile spread over Zonko's face.

"I'll see what I can do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy wandered home sometime later, feeling worse with every step she took. Sickness overcame her at the pub's back step. She made it to the rubbish bin just as the overload of chocolate was expelled from her stomach. As the spasms left her, she sat on the top step, curling into a ball and pressing her forehead against her knees.

Tears came then. Hot tears of resignation. Hagrid had finally announced, and quite loudly, that he would never love her. 

"Everything's better off with its own kind," she whispered against her knees, drawing them even more tightly to her chest. "Giants belong with giants. Wizards belong with wizards. Muggles belong with Muggles, and squibs..." her voice failed her as the words pierced her very soul.

"Where we do we fit? We must choose to live a lie in a realm we cannot take part in, or turn our backs on it and live without everything we hold dear. Pigs don't fly. No matter how hard we want them too."

She reached inside her robes and pulled out the silver hippogriff necklace that hung around her neck. Looking at it brought on a fresh onslaught of tears. She was reaching behind her neck to unlatch it when the pub's back door opened.

"There you are," came Rosmerta's voice. She sat down beside Ivy and wrapped her arms around her.

"Pigs don't fly, Rosie," Ivy murmured bitterly. "Everything's better off with its own kind. Some things truly are... impossible."

Rose gave a sigh and reached out to brush a strand of hair from Ivy's wet cheek. "Is that what you believe, love?" She took a moment to gaze up at the stars. "Because if it is, then my greatest fear has come true. You're not a squib anymore. If you've lost your faith in magic then you've become what your father wanted you to be. A Muggle. Simple truth. You've devoted your life to studying the stories they came up with to explain away magic. Are you telling me you'd rather believe their myths than what you've seen with your own eyes?

"Ivy... We saw Hagrid with a giantess last night. And yes... he may be infatuated with her for the moment, but... she's not like us. She's not like you. She spent the whole night with her handkerchief over her nose, like we all... stank, or something. The Brunswick stew was too thick, the brandy was... let me see. How did she put it? 'Of zee inferior zort you are uzed to in zee barbarian lands.' The pub is Hagrid's second home, Ivy. He won't give his heart to someone like her. Or maybe he will, and she'll bring her hanky up to her nose and refuse him. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I'd be feeling sorry for Hagrid, if I were you. I fear what's to become of him if she breaks his heart. He's so..."

"Good," Ivy finished.

"Yes," Rose smiled. "And tender-hearted."

"And selfless," Ivy continued in a whisper. "And funny, and beautiful."

"Better watch out... I think a just saw a pig fly over."

Ivy finally gave a little laugh.

"I love you, Ivy. And Hagrid does too. In his heart of hearts, I know he does. It may take him a while to figure it out though. Men are thick in the head. And giants... even thicker. Let him have Maxime. She may help get things through to his brain a little faster, you never know."

"It's hard to watch him look at her that way," Ivy countered. "I always wanted..."

"He will. I promise. He'll look at you that way someday."

"You didn't happen to see that in your gazing ball or tea leaves, Rosie?"

Rose laughed. "Sorry, no. It's what my heart tells me is true. Just like I know that Remus will come back to Hogsmeade someday. And we'll find a way to be together. Love, Ivy. It's the most powerful magic of all. Don't forget that."

"I'm trying not to."

"I know. Now lets get you up to bed. It's nearly morning."

Ivy stood to her feet and tucked her necklace back into the collar of her robes, determined to hold on to it a little while longer.


	11. Hogwart's Champion

If Ivy had not left the pub that night in the company of Zack Zonko, she would have heard that Harry Potter had been chosen as one of the champions for Hogwarts school. As it was, she heard it from Rose, who'd heard it from one Ludo Bagman, head of the Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ivy'd only heard the Triwizard Tournament explained by Hagrid, but she remembered quite distinctly that he'd said there were to be only three champions. What Bagman said brought the total to four. Either way seemed to spell danger for young Harry Potter.

The next day she listened to Bagman repeat his theories on how the extra name got past the Goblet of Fire. Excusing herself from the conversation, she went upstairs to write Harry a letter.  


__

Dear Harry,

I heard about you being picked as a champion for Hogwarts. Sounds a little scary to me. Have you written to tell Blackie? I think he should know. I'll leave that up to you, though. (Since you were picked as champion, not me.) Come down to the pub and fill me in, soon, won't you? I've got to keep my promise. 

Your friend,

Ivy Ollivander. 

She rolled the parchment up and hid it in her robes, then told Rose she was going for a walk. 

There was a hint of frost in the air as Ivy made her way to the post office. Handing the correct change to Mr. Cornelius, the Postman, she watched as he tied the letter to a large brown barn owl, who took off immediately.

"Have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament, Ivy?" Cornelius asked. "And Hogwarts havin' two champions?"

"Yes, I did," Ivy nodded. "Ludo Bagman is at the pub this very minute, telling Rose and the others all about it. He's a very... erm... happy fellow, that Bagman."

"Ludo is here, in Hogsmeade?" Cornelius continued, oblivious to Ivy's take on the man.

"Oh yes. And he's on the panel of judges for the Tournament. You know how it is... the pub's the best place to hear the latest. And I better be getting back there. Lots to do, and all."

"Yes... yes of course, my dear. Didn't mean to keep you. And do give my regards to your great-grandfather next time you see him, won't you?"

Ivy's eyes lit up at the mention of her great-grandfather. "I will," she promised, then she was out the door. Only her feet didn't take her back to the pub. She pulled her cloak around her against the November wind, and headed down the street toward the little house that belonged to Zillius Zonko.

"Zack said I needed to see it in the daylight," she whispered to herself, as she made her way down the cobblestone street. She was a little apprehensive. Surely it couldn't be that bad. She could still feel the coziness that had enveloped her there in the dark, and hoped fervently that a little sunshine did not have the power to drive that feeling away.

Stopping at the front gate only made her heart beat quicken. The thatch-roofed cottage, though dilapidated from sitting empty, still seemed to beckon to her. It's windows winked sunshine back in her direction, and the stones that made up the bottom half of the walls spoke to her of sturdiness and peace. Her hand was working the gate latch when an all too familiar 'woof' met her ears.  
  
"Blackie!" Ivy called in disbelief. She turned around and spotted him on their familiar meeting place across from the vulture tree. Turning from the gate, she headed toward him, running down the street.  


"What on earth has brought you back to Hogsmeade?" she asked, smoothing her hands down the length of his body. She sat down on the rocks and pulled him into her lap, totally forgetting that he was anything more than a pet she'd missed terribly. After considerable time spent scratching and hugging, she looked into his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again. "What if somebody sees you? You could get caught." That thought brought a sudden sharp intake of breath, and she sat back from him a bit, face reddening. It was one thing to be so familiar with a dog... but now Ivy knew that Blackie was more than just an ordinary pet. 

"Sirius," she whispered. "Not Blackie. Sirius." She shifted positions so there was even more space between them, but the dog only whined and sidled closer, pushing his head up under her hand. Giving up her worries, she wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing across his shoulders into the forest. The path she'd seen Hagrid use was just across the street. She knew the woods held danger, but she also knew she had to talk to Sirius, not Blackie.

"Come on, then," she told him, pushing herself off the rocks and across the street. She jumped the little stream and headed up the path and into the woods. Blackie followed at first, but once under cover of the trees, he moved past her to lead the way. Ivy stayed close until they found another rocky outcropping, and for the first time she watched as Blackie transformed into Sirius Black. His nose shrank and began losing its furry appearance even as his ears lengthened and became shaggy, jet-black hair. As he stood up on his hind legs, they got longer, his forelegs shortening into robe-covered arms. Arms with hands instead of paws. Hands that reached out awkwardly to take Ivy's.

A grin stole over Ivy's face as she beheld him. No matter how shocking it was to watch him change from a dog into a man, she was still excited to see him. She stepped forward and threw her arms around his bony shoulders.

"It's really you," she murmured. "I thought..."

"You shouldn't have thought that, Ivy. I told you I'd come back."

"I know, but... it's been so long. Blood and ashes it's good to see you."

"Ivy Ollivander!" he scolded. "You've been working at that pub too long. You've started sounding like a drunken giant."

Ivy's grin faded at that, and she turned away, suddenly studying the rocks to find a place to sit down.

"What's the matter, Ivy?" Sirius asked, moving around in front of her, so she'd have to look him in the eye.

"Nothing's wrong," she lied, although looking up at him made her extremely uncomfortable with her untruth. "It's just... well... " She toyed with the idea of telling him about Hagrid and Maxime, then rejected the idea. If Sirius was in Hogsmeade it was probably because of Harry. And the young wizard needed his guidance through the Triwizard Tournament a lot more than she needed counsel on her love-life. 

"Have you heard about Harry?"

"I haven't seen him yet," Sirius admitted. He rubbed a hand across his face as he sat down beside her. "Getting close to Harry is a lot harder than getting close to you. One '_woof_' and you come running. With Harry, I've got to get past enchantments and ghosts, poltergeists and Dumbledore."

"One woof, huh?" Ivy asked, her smile returning. "I'm an obedient human, then, aren't I?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," he protested. "So what's to hear about Harry?"

"He's been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament," Ivy said, feeling inadequate to explain the events revolving around the current term at Hogwarts.

"The Goblet of Fire chooses the champions, I think. And somehow Harry's name got put in the hat. Goblet, I mean. Nobody knows how, but I just heard Ludo Bagman going down a list of reasons why and how it got there. And one of those reasons was that maybe somebody's trying to get him killed. Bagman laughed that one off, but I'm worried. Hagrid said the tasks are extremely difficult. And all the other champions are older and more skilled than Harry. I..."

Sirius held up a hand. "Harry's name got placed in the Goblet of Fire?"

"Yes," Ivy said. "Even though there were enchantments around it to prevent under-aged wizards from trying to enter. I don't understand it all, but Bagman says that Harry insisted he didn't put his name in the Goblet. That somebody else dropped it in."

"Poor Harry," Sirius said, standing to his feet to pace the forest floor. "The Triwizard Tournament is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. That's why there hasn't been one in such a long time. Too many students getting killed." He turned back to Ivy and took her hands in his. 

"We can't let that happen to Harry," Ivy sputtered, unable to hold his intense gaze.

"This is the Triwizard Tournament, Ivy. Do you realize how many witches and wizards will be here to witness the tasks? I'm going to have to find a good hiding place, just to stay nearby. I don't know how much help I'll be to Harry hiding out in the woods."

"Just knowing you're here will help Harry," Ivy told him. "And I think I know a place where you can hide. I'm buying that house from Zack and his dad. You can hide there."

"What house?" he asked, a little confused.

"The house on the edge of town, the one I was looking at when you called me. Just one woof, remember?"

Sirius smiled, but it seemed to take some effort.

"I'm going to see my Grey-Grand this weekend. To get the money to buy that house. Once it's mine, you'll have a place to stay. People around here are already used to seeing you with me. It'll be perfect. They'll just think I'm finally giving you a home."

A crimson blush stole over Ivy's face as her words hung between them.

"Home," Sirius murmured. The look of open longing on his face made her heart hurt.

"And on Hogsmeade Weekends Harry can come visit us." Everything stopped as Ivy watched a range of emotions cross Sirius's haggard face. For a moment he looked as though he might give in to tears.

"It's alright," she told him. "As much as I've cried in front of you..." She stood up and reached for his arm. He turned toward her, dry-eyed and serious.

"I can't let you do that," he said simply. "It's called 'Aiding and Abetting'. If they ever found out, you'd go straight to Azkaban with me. I won't put you in that danger. You, or Harry either."

"Then I'll put me there all by myself. I just told you that everybody in Hogsmeade has seen me bringing you scraps from the pub. So there, I've already incriminated myself. If they ever find out that you're Blackie..."

"I'll tell them you were a soft touch for an occasional ham bone, nothing more."

"And I'll tell them you're a liar!" she all but shouted. "A liar, maybe," her voice softened. "But never a murderer. You don't have to go this alone, Sirius. I want to help you. And Harry. And the two of you will be helping me, as well." 

"And what about Hagrid," Sirius teased, reaching out to pull the ribbon out of her hair. "He might not appreciate you taking in a roommate."

"Hagrid is occupied with a certain visiting Headmistress at the moment," Ivy said, letting more bitterness leak into her words than she'd meant to. "He wouldn't notice if a whole football team moved in with me."

"Are you talking American football, rugby, or soccer?"

Ivy couldn't help but laugh. "All of the above." 

Sirius sighed and pulled her into an embrace. "There's got to be a light at the end of this tunnel we're in, Ms. Ollivander. You can always ditch the giant in favor of faithful Padfoot."

He pressed his cheek against hers, and Ivy had to smile when she caught the faint odor of dog in his hair.

"I believe you are suffering from clinical schizophrenia," she told him. "How can I ditch the giant for the dog, when the dog doesn't want to be seen with me? I mean... I love the dog. But the giant...." She took a step backward, biting her lip, and the sudden gap between them spoke volumes. 

"It's alright, Ivy," Sirius tried to breach the distance. "Truth is... love is a luxury I can't afford at the moment. But that doesn't mean I don't treasure our relationship. Every minute of it. And I'd take over your spare bedroom in a heartbeat, if I thought I could give you more than Hagrid can. But I can't. Not now. Maybe not ever. Maybe... I'm just here to help you get to where you're going."

Ivy released a sigh and raised his hand to her cheek. She couldn't take her eyes off Sirius, but the sadness that pooled in them caused even Black to tear up. There was no way she could explain the feeling she felt when she looked into his eyes, versus the way she felt when she looked up at Hagrid. Black was her best friend in the world besides Rosmerta, and in her heart she knew she could live with him, happily ever after, and be comfortable. But he'd never steal her breath away like Hagrid did. He'd never make her feel like she'd felt the day she'd ridden Gingerfoot. And he deserved to be loved by someone who felt just that way, every time she glanced in his direction. 

They argued back and forth about the house for nearly an hour, until Ivy realized she needed to get back to the pub. She promised to bring Sirius something to eat as soon as she could get away, and everything she could find out about Harry and the Tournament. Walking out of the woods, she jumped the stream and bounded up the bank. The first thing she set eyes on as she crossed the street was her little stone-and mortar house. She let her hand slip along the tips of the picket fence that surrounded it as she traveled down the street. Then breaking into a run, she made her way back to the Three Broomsticks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Let's try a pink fence, Ivy." Madam Rosmerta pulled out her wand and flicked it a few times to warm up.

"No, wait," she paused, taking in the entire front of Ivy's new house from across the street.

"Maybe white with a pink rose on every picket. Or better yet... some ivy."

Ivy smiled Rose's way absently, afraid to take her eyes off the place. She still found it hard to believe it belonged to her. Her great-grandfather had given her the money to buy it without hesitation, and she hadn't even had to come up with a story to get the sum from her father.

Now the little house sat cozy and inviting - its tiny garden trimmed and cheerful. Rose had given the outside a powerful cleaning spell, and Willa was inside polishing windows.

"Speaking of ivy..." Rose pushed open the gate. "_Vivarium Porticus_." She flicked her wand at the corners of the house and tendrils of English ivy began to unfurl.

"What about blue?" she turned to Ivy. "We could trim it out in blue around the windows. What do you think?"

Ivy turned her full attention on Rose. 

"Blue trim," she agreed. "Powder blue, like the sky. And I'll want a rosebush or two growing in amongst that ivy."

Rose cocked her head studying her friend for a moment before throwing her arms around her.

"It's going to be lovely, Ivy. Absolutely adorable."

Ivy nodded, returning her embrace. "I'm going to check on Willa. I'll have her make us some tea. You come inside when you feel like a break."

Rose patted Ivy's shoulder, nearly pushing her aside to get back to re-planting Ivy's garden.

Ivy went inside, where Willa was now attacking the wooden floors while Zack peered under the kitchen sink at the plumbing.

"Still sure about this old place?" he asked as Ivy strode into the kitchen.

"Yes, Zachary, I still like it. New curtains and chairs will have it feeling like home in no time. It already feels like home, to me."

"I'll take your word for it," he mused, straightening up and trying out the new faucet. "Feel free to work around me. Just whip out your wand and go to town. I won't be in your way."

Ivy choked, caught off guard by his statement. She'd been in Hogsmeade for over a year and no one had ever actually made any kind of reference to the fact that she was never seen wand-in-hand.

"I think I'll wait for Rose," she told him. "She's got more of a flare for decorating than I do."

"Come on, Ivy. Just a little swish and flick I want to see what _you _come up with. You can change it quick enough if you don't like it." Ivy knew he meant to flatter her, but he only succeeded in getting on her nerves.

"Really, Zack. I'd rather wait for Rose."

Zack scratched his head, peering intently at her. His next words sounded as though they came directly out of Ivy's own head.

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen your wand. I mean, it must be a beaut, you being an Ollivander and all. Did you get to help create it?"

Ivy fidgeted under his jovial gaze. He'd done more than she'd ever imagined in helping her buy his father's house, and lately he'd rarely left her side, but something about him made her hesitate.

"I forgot it," she stated. "At the pub. It's up in my room, along with the other things I'm packing."

"Your wand, Ivy?" he questioned. "Packed away like your hairbrush and slippers? Funny... mine never leaves my side. And that's really not what I asked. I was wondering if you got to help your great-grandfather create it. You know, did you choose the wood? Or pick which magical element would be its heart? Tell me about it. Did you choose something lofty and fanciful, like a hair from a unicorn's tail, or go for something with more power, like a dragon's heartstring?"

"Well, I..." she stared at him, mouth opening and closing of its own accord while her brain raced for something plausible to say. As much as the warning bell was sounding in her head, another part of her -- the part that was standing in her very own first home -- wanted to finally come clean. Surely Zack Zonko wouldn't judge her harshly. He'd been there as her defender when she'd introduced Cajun food at the pub. He'd taken care of her when Hagrid showed up with Madam Maxime. And he acted as though he'd have no trouble taking care of her in the future, should she mention she had need of him. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Come along then, Ivy. Show us your wand. I'm curious now."

"I can't," she said, squaring her shoulders.

"You can't?" Zack questioned again. "Why not?"

"I don't have one," she ventured quietly, her heart beat roaring in her ears.

Not for the first time, he spoke to her as though she were a child. "What do you mean you don't have one? Everybody has one. We're wizards, Ivy. If we're going to do anything magical that's what we do it with. A wand."

"I don't have one," she repeated. "Not a wand made of willow with a unicorn's hair, or one made of oak with a dragon's heartstring. And even if I did happen to pick one up, it wouldn't do me any good. I'm a..." Even now she could not bring herself to say the word.

"I'm not..."

The silence between them began to bear down upon her shoulders.

"I can't..."

She gritted her teeth and wrinkled her nose in frustration.

"I'm not magic."

Her hand flew to her mouth, but it was too late to recapture her confession. Zack took a step backward, as though she was somehow contagious. His lip curled a little, although, to his credit, he did try to hide it. The light she always saw in his eyes when he looked at her dimmed a little, then went out entirely.

"A Squib, huh?" he said, twisting his beefy hands together. As that word hung between them he suddenly found it hard to look her in the eye. To himself, he finished. "That definitely changes things.

"Does anybody else know about this?" he wondered aloud. "I mean, Hagrid? Rose? Do they..."

He glanced at her and she got the distinct impression that he was examining her from a distance, out of morbid curiosity, as one would feel drawn to look over a large and hideous bug. Or something dead.

Ivy closed her eyes - the realization that's she'd just made a serious mistake settling over her shoulders like a heavy, sodden blanket.

"Rose knows it," she murmured, his gaze making her feel very small. "Not Hagrid. Umm... Remus Lupin and Si-" she stopped, refusing to put Sirius in danger to somehow validate herself. "I thought you'd understand."

Zack took another step backward, clasping his hands to his chest in revulsion, as though the dead thing he'd been examining had chosen that exact moment to explode.

"Well, Ivy..." he stuttered in a belated attempt to back pedal. "We can't really help how we're born, can we? I knew there was something funny about you, though. I mean... I never saw your wand. And you an Ollivander, to boot. It makes perfect sense though, I suppose."

"What makes sense?"

Ivy and Zack both snapped to attention as Rose's voice invaded the kitchen.

"Well... Oh... Ivy of course," Zack floundered, slicking a shaky hand through his hair. "She's just told me... I mean... it sort of came out... She told me you already knew..."

"What do I know Zonko?" Rose spoke, stomping one foot impatiently.

"She's a squib."

Ivy's head turned toward the window as if she'd been slapped.

"She told you that?" Rose asked, narrowing her eyes in his direction.

"Yes, I told him," Ivy said, eyes never leaving the window. "I thought..."

"Thought you could trust him?" Rose finished for her.

"Thought it wouldn't matter," she whispered. "Thought he was my friend."

"Ivy..." Zack whined, taking a step toward her, but Rose quickly positioned herself between them, wand outstretched.

"We've worked very hard to keep Ivy's condition a secret," she spoke through clenched teeth. "And let me tell you something. If this gets out in Hogsmeade you can be assured that everyone will know who's exploding dung bombs set old Madam Koonce's barn on fire last summer. Her hired man nearly died in the blaze, if I remember. You'd best keep this secret just as quiet as I've kept that one. Unless you want to spend some time at Azkaban, getting acquainted with dementors?"

"Madam Rosmerta..." Zonko sputtered, suddenly indignant. "I can assure you I would never embarrass Ivy. It just came out. Accidentally. I asked to see her wand and then... then..."

"She made a serious mistake in character judgment."

"Rose... please." Ivy murmured, placing a hand on her friend's arm.

"Yes, Rose... please," Zack repeated through desperate lips. "I must be going anyway. Father will worry if I'm not at home for tea."

"Go on then," Rose sneered at the rotund man. "Get home to your father, but don't forget what I said."

Zack raised his hands in surrender, pushing past them to leave the house as quick as his stocky legs could carry him.

"Damn," Rose muttered, turning her attention on Ivy.

"So much for our wonderful day," Ivy smiled weakly.

"It's still wonderful, Ivy. Come see what I've done with the fence."

"But Zack..."

"Don't think about him anymore. He's not worth the time. He doesn't deserve you and it's best we found that out now."

"But..." Ivy couldn't put her greatest fear into words for a minute. 

"But what if that had been Hagrid? If he ever looks at me that way I'll... just..."

"You know Hagrid better than that," Rose insisted, taking Ivy by the shoulders. She turned her around and pushed her toward the garden. "Come look at the periwinkles."

Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Ivy sighed, resolving to do what her friend had said. She let Rose push her out to the garden, without another word about Zachary Zonko.

The newly transformed garden filled Ivy with awe. Rose had bordered the front path with bright blue periwinkles and the ivy she'd conjured already covered the bottom half of the house. The sunflowers that flanked the front windows were already attracting butterflies - although when a chill November wind bent the flowers Ivy realized that Rose must have magicked them too. Her efforts made for a picture perfect environment that chased away the heaviness in Ivy's heart.

"That was stupid of me, wasn't it? Telling Zonko?"

Rose turned to Ivy with a sigh. "Look, love, he's been shadowing you since Christmas. And I can see how you might have taken him at face value. I've always thought he was the greasy sort, myself. The kind who does nothing without ulterior motives. The bottom line is we can't get that water back again. It's under the bridge. Don't let Zonko's shallowness eat at you. I'm sorry it happened this way, but I hope you won't judge every magical person by his standards. I think you should forget about him and look at your house. It's beautiful. We'll finish the inside tomorrow and you can move in."

Ivy looked around as advised and gave Rose a determined nod, then grinned.

"You'll have to sleep over the first night or two. I don't think I'll be able to sleep without hearing you snore."

"I don't snore, you git!" Rose countered.

"It's not a loud annoying snore," Ivy continued, bending over to stick her nose in the periwinkles. "Just a soft little..."

She stopped when Rose pecked her on the shoulder with a finger.

"What?" She straightened up just in time to see Hagrid standing outside her front gate. Her chest tightened at the sight of him, until she remembered how he'd looked at Madam Maxime.

"Got to be going," Rose murmured, grinning. "Duty calls and all." She gave Hagrid a half-curtsy, then slipped out the gate toward the pub.

Ivy stood rooted to the spot, sighing in satisfaction at the view. Hagrid's hand slid over the top of the gate and undid the latch with a simple familiarity that made her heart ache. Her head tilted upward steadily as he drew near - her eyes never leaving his face. When he stopped, she forced a grin.

"Welcome to my new house," she told him, turning to throw her hand out toward the cottage.

__

And may you spend countless hours here. At my house. Without Madam Maxime.

"New house?" Hagrid asked, taking another step toward the door. "Thought it was ole man Zonko's"

"It used to be. I bought it from him last week. We've been working on the garden. How does it look?"

Hagrid took in the garden with a critical eye.

"Needs a pun'kin patch over there," he gestured. "But that'll hafta wait till spring. All this..." he plucked a periwinkle flower off its stem. "'S pretty, but it'll be gone, firs' frost. Doin' things the magical way's quicker, sure, but there's nuthin' better'n getting yer hands in the dirt and plantin' things yerself. Letting' the seeds an' the dirt an' the sun be all the magic ya need."

Ivy's formerly forced grin turned genuine.

"Without magic?" she pressed, hoping to hear him say it again.

Hagrid leaned toward her. "There's more to magic than flippin' wands 'round, Ivy. And us magic folk ain't cornered the market like we think we 'ave. I learned that much from all these years havin' to get permission to use it. It'd do ev'ry witch and wizard a world a good to hafta do things wi' their own two han's ev'ry once in a while."

He watched with one raised eyebrow to get her reaction.

"Oh..." she started happily. "I agree with you completely. You're right. It would do us all... a world of good."

Hagrid grunted in agreement and rocked back on his heels.

"I stopped by when I saw ya to see if you'll be at the pub, tonight. I'm bringin' a friend by. Maybe you can stay on yer feet this time." He slapped her shoulder in a familiar gesture that nearly sent her sprawling into the periwinkles.

"A friend?" she asked, now off balance emotionally as well as physically.

Hagrid nodded, wrapping his huge hands around his belt. "Thought I'd prepare ya this time."

"Hagrid, I..." she wanted to stomp her foot angrily and ask him how in blazes anybody could have been prepared to meet Maxime, but she clamped her mouth shut on the tirade rising within her.

"I wasn't feeling well that night," she muttered instead.

"Yer feelin' a'right now, ain't ya?"

"Yes..." she admitted, without much conviction. "At least I am right this minute."

"I'll see ya t'night, then."

Ivy gave him a sickly smile and a half-nod of agreement.

"See you then."

Hagrid lumbered up the walk as Ivy watched. As he got to the gate she remembered her own promise to get back to the pub, and ran to catch up. Hagrid turned around to ask her one more thing.

"Yer not gonna be scared... livin' way out here, are ya? It's a long walk from the pub by yerself... in the dark"

"I'm not scared of the dark," she told him. "Besides, the dog I used to feed is hanging around again. Maybe if I feed him well enough he'll walk me home."

Hagrid didn't seem convinced.

"See that path there, leadin' inta the woods?" he asked, leaning over and pointing across High Street. "It leads to my house, if ya ever need..."

"I'll be fine with Blackie," Ivy insisted. "And Rose'll watch out for me too. Honestly..."

Hagrid studied her for a minute.

"Jus' wouldn't want anything to happen to ya, is all. The woods're right creepy at night, but I'll have the critters keep an eye out fer ya. Just stick to the path an' you'll be safe."

"Just like I was when you talked me into riding Gingerfoot, right?" she challenged.

Hagrid gave her a nod and a wink. "Exac'ly."

She laughed as they went their separate ways, Ivy following her feet to the pub, while Hagrid headed home.

"See you tonight," she murmured as he crossed the stream and disappeared into the forest. 

"You and your _friend_."


	12. The Vampire's Kiss

Thoughts of having to face Madam Maxime again filled Ivy with dread. By the time she got to the pub she was miserable. The hours between the tea crowd and dinner stretched on interminably, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach every time the door opened. Finally, with great resignation, she went into the kitchen and began working in the back corner by the fireplace. Rose appeared a little later, wrinkling her nose in Ivy's direction.

"Gods Ivy, what are you making? We can smell it all the way out at the bar."

Ivy looked up at Rose, her face streaming tears, and Rose was hard put to figure out if it was from sorrow or the smell. 

"Stoat sandwiches."

"Stoat sandwiches?" Rose repeated in disbelief. She took a step toward Ivy, but the smell pushed her back.

"Where did you get a stoat, and how on earth did you put it on a sandwich? And why?"

Ivy sniffled and wiped at her face, turning briefly back to her platter.

"Willa got me the stoats easy enough. There're lots of them out by the woodpile. Hagrid's the one who told me how to make the sandwiches. Before... before." She couldn't go on.

"I just figured if he loved them so much, then _she_ probably would too, since they're both giants, and all."

"Ivy..." Rose muttered. "Here. Put a lid over that and set it out on the back step. Then come inside. I'll fix something to make you feel better."

Ivy did as she was told, setting the pile of sandwiches out on the step and then walking back through the kitchen and into the bar. Rose met her there with a goblet full of elderberry wine. 

"You'd better go and change your clothes... I can still smell the..." she waved a hand in front of her face and pointed Ivy upstairs. Ivy sighed tearfully, took the wine and headed to her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No more elderberry wine for you," Rose announced as Ivy poured her third goblet-full.

"I don't care who Hagrid's bringing through the door. Here. Have a cup of tea instead."

Ivy took the cup with shaky fingers. She wasn't used to drinking, and the wine had gone straight to her head.

"You said I needed something..." she reminded. "To get rid of these butterflies. I'd rather be put under an Cruciatus than see him all moonstruck over Madam Maxime."

"Maybe it's not her, this time. I mean... he didn't say her name, did he? Let me see your tea leaves."

Ivy drank the last of her tea carefully, then tipped the cup sideways and handed it to her friend.

"What does it say?"

"Hold on," Rose murmured, gazing intently into the cup.

"Does it show a grotesquely enlarged woman stomping all over my heart?"

Rose waved Ivy away as she tried to peer over her shoulder.

"Go on, Ivy," she insisted. "Give the vampire trio their Bloody Marys so I can look closer."

Ivy sighed, but took the tray of drinks to the corner table where three vampires had taken to camping out nightly.

"Ah... there she is," said the tallest of the three, a Latvian diplomat named Vladimir Valenkoff. "You're looking deliciously lovely tonight, my dear."

She put the tray down on the table as Valenkoff took hold of her wrist.

"Vat did you say your blood type vas, again?"

His companions laughed as Ivy took them in stride. They'd been going through the same routine for weeks now.

"B Positive," she answered, serving their drinks with her free hand. Valenkoff's grip on her was frightfully cold and determined. He turned her wrist over to study the fine webbing of veins that showed just under her skin. Ivy, sensing his grip loosening, used that moment to pull herself away.

"Be careful, Ivy," the oldest vampire murmured, glancing nervously in his companion's direction. "And keep your vindows closed. I am not responsible for Valenkoff after midnight."

"Have I mentioned there's a really big cat in my room?" Ivy lied. "She has a certain taste for bats, as I remember. As a matter of fact, she'd rather have bats over rats, any day."

"Oh Ivy you vouldn't," the third vampire spoke up. He was younger, and blonde, with blue eyes that reminded her of Zackary Zonko.

"I vould, Sergei, I vould," she assured him. "And there better be an extra large tip on this table when you fellows leave tonight, for making me put up with all this."

"You vound us vith your callousness, little one," Valenkoff murmured. Ivy gazed into his eyes far longer than she meant to.

"No hypnotizing my waitress, Valenkoff." Rose came over to push Ivy away from the table. "I'd have to notify the Ministry of Magic, and I wouldn't want to have to do that. She can't work for me very well if she becomes undead, like you."

The vampires laughed half-heartedly as Rose led Ivy back to the bar.

"How many times have I told you not to look in his eyes?" Rose muttered.

Ivy rubbed her wrist, and then her forehead.

"He got me again, didn't he?"

"Yes. Just like that. Next time look at the table, or the glasses. Anything. Or better yet, let Renfroe serve their table."

Ivy shuddered. "Fine. No more vampire table for me. Now - what did my tea leaves tell you?"

"Look there," Rose started, taking the teacup and tilting in it Ivy's direction. "See that heart shape? How it's frayed a bit around the edges?"

"I knew it!" Ivy complained. "Hagrid's going to rip my heart to shreds."

"Not shreds, silly," Rose continued. "It's frayed. Almost lacy. You're going to be reunited with a long-lost friend."

"I think I need to drink another cup of tea," Ivy shot her a grin. "I already did that last year when I came to Hogsmeade."

Rose gave her a disapproving look.

"Between the wine and the vampires, Ivy..."

"Sorry."

Rose shook her head. "Look. By the size of that heart this is someone you once really cared about. The fraying only points to age - or how long ago you knew this person, understand?"

"I'll take your word for it," Ivy said. "If you say it isn't a giant foot coming down to stomp on my frayed heart... I believe you."

She paused a minute and rubbed a hand across her eyes. "Valenkoff hypnotized me again, didn't he?"

"That was ages ago," Rose informed her. "I think you'd better go splash some water on your face. Maybe that'll clear your head."

Ivy resisted an urge to stick her tongue out at Rosie, walking past her into the kitchen.

When she came back, Hagrid was leaning on the bar. Ivy let out a huge sigh of relief when she saw no signs of Madam Maxime.

"Hi, Hagrid," she said, reaching to mix herself a red currant rum. Rose grabbed the goblet out of her hand and replaced it with gillywater before she could protest.

"Where's your friend?"

Hagrid grinned, stepping aside and allowing a tall red-head some space at the bar. Ivy stared at him a minute, then her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Charlie Weasley!" she exclaimed, rounding the bar to get a better look at him.

"Ivy!" he said, grinning. He took the steps between them and held out his hands. "By Merlin's beard, it's been ages."

Ivy took his hands and stood awkwardly before him for a minute, then dropped them and gave him a hug.

"What on earth are you doing in Hogsmeade?" she asked, then her eyes narrowed at Hagrid. "You haven't won any strange looking eggs lately?"

Hagrid grunted in her direction as he and Charlie settled in at the bar. Ivy watched as the two of them shared conspiratorial glances.

"You're up to something," she told them. "And knowing you both, it has something to do with dragons."

"It's a bit of a secret, for now," Charlie admitted.

"Get off work a little early tomorrow night and we'll show ya," Hagrid said.

"It'll have something to do with the Tournament," Rose concluded, passing Hagrid's tankard down the bar.

"What'll you have, Charlie?"

"Just a gillywater like Ivy's. Got to keep my wits about me."

Ivy filled a goblet and handed it too him, while Hagrid sat back and watched.

"I can't believe you're here."

"That's what I'm supposed to say," he countered, saluting her with his drink. "How did you manage to land in Hogsmeade?"

Ivy grinned, flooded with warmth at being reunited with a long-lost friend, as Rose had predicted.

"I got homesick," she told him. "And extremely tired of Muggles."

Charlie grinned. "Life must be a lot different here though. No ekle-tricity."

"Electricity," she corrected. Her hand went to her neck to brush at an imaginary bug she felt there. As it did, her eyes drifted to where the vampires had been sitting earlier. Valenkoff was the only one left. He also raised his glass to her, and Ivy's brow furrowed as she tried to remember seeing Sergei and Andracov leave.

"Ivy..."

She blinked a few times and turned her attention back to Charlie and Hagrid.

"What?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

"We didn't say anything," Charlie said, lifting his drink to his lips.

"But I heard someone..." she sighed. "Never mind. Would you two like to order something for dinner?"

"'S why we're here," Hagrid said. "Charlie's gotta lay low til the firs' task a the Triwizard Tournament's announced."

"Oh..." Ivy took this in with raised eyebrows. She turned and pointed to a board on the wall where Rose had magicked the menu for the night. "What'll it be?"

"Pheasant stew for me," Charlie told her.

"I'll have th' steak-an-kidney pie," came from Hagrid.

"All right then," she gave them both a smile. "I'll be back with your order straight away." 

She turned toward the kitchen, took a few steps, then turned back. "Did either of you call my name, just now? You didn't, did you?"

Both Charlie and Hagrid said no.

"I must be hearing things," she muttered, more to herself than anybody, as she turned back to the kitchen.

When she returned she nearly dropped the tray that held their orders when she let go with one hand to slap again at her neck. Luckily she was close enough to the bar that she slid the tray onto it without spilling anything.

"Is there something crawling on my neck?" she asked, leaning toward Hagrid and Charlie so they could see.

Hagrid went pale, then his face turned beet-red. He fumbled in his pockets while Charlie assured Ivy nothing was on her neck. She rubbed it slowly with one hand while serving his stew with the other.

"Here you go, Hagrid..." she set his plate on the bar, eyes widening as she watched him stand to his feet. He had his frilly, wand-embedded umbrella out and pointing at her chest, and his eyes blazed with something Ivy'd never seen there before. Anger. She took an involuntary step backward as she heard him bellow, "_Expatrio Vampirum_!"

A burst of red light left the umbrella and hit Ivy, knocking her backwards into the wall. She could hear the uproar his action had caused, but only faintly, as though both of her ears were stuffed with cotton. She felt that crawling-bug feeling on her neck once more, but this time she could see what caused it. She watched a dull purplish beetle crawl onto her shoulder, then spread its iridescent wings and take flight, its path leading directly to its master, the vampire, Valenkoff.

He smirked at her from behind where Hagrid, Charlie, Rose and Renfroe stood arguing. "Maybe next time, little Ivy," his voice spoke faintly in her head. Then the voice, the beetle and the vampire were gone and Ivy felt lighter and more free than she had all evening.

"Rose..." she said taking a shaky step toward them. Nobody noticed she'd left her place by the wall.

"Charlie," she tried to get through to someone else, but they were busy loudly chastising Hagrid for what he'd done.

"Renfroe?"

The elder barkeep wasn't listening either, so Ivy rounded the bar, eyes still wide. Her hair looked as though she'd been doing experiments with ekle-tricity. Taking a deep breath, she approached Hagrid. The others stepped away from him, waiting to see what Ivy had to say.

She stood there uncertainly for a moment, then threw herself at Hagrid.

"Thank you," she murmured, holding onto him as tightly as she could. Her arms only went part-way around him, but when she pressed her ear to his chest, she could hear his heart beat, steady and strong. Its slow, familiar cadence calmed her nerves. "I don't know how you figured that out, But I'm really glad you did."

Hagrid grunted a little, lifting her off her feet as he returned her embrace. Then he held her at arm's length, reaching to brush a strand of hair off her cheekbone.

"Din't hurt ya, did I?"

"No," she said as she tried to push her hair back in place. "You saved my life." She released him and turned to the others, but it was Hagrid who spoke first.

"If I ev'r see them vampires in here again _they'll _be th' ones lookin' at the enda my wand."

"Vampires? Ivy... what's going on?" Rose asked, now thoroughly confused.

Ivy explained how she'd heard someone calling her name, and felt a bug on her neck. "It was Valenkoff. Earlier he had my arm. That's when he must have put that bug on me." She shuddered at the thought of it.

"More like _in_ ya," Hagrid explained. "It left its mark on yer neck. Right there... a Vampire's Kiss." The ball of his thumb stroked gently across a red, spidery mark at the base of Ivy's throat. It pulsed gently with her heart beat.

"By Merlin's crusty - "

"Rose!" Ivy cautioned. Red stole across Rose's face as she threw her arms around Ivy. Ivy patted her back with one hand, as the other held tight to Hagrid's shirtsleeve. It gave no sign of letting go any time soon.

Rose turned her attention to the giant.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid. I didn't realize what was happening. Forgive me for getting so angry with you."

Hagrid shook his great mane in Rose's direction, covering Ivy's hand with his own.

"Reckon if I saw somebody blast me bes' friend, I'd be upset, myself."

"That's no excuse," Rose insisted. "I should have trusted you." She raised up as high as she could on her tip-toes and managed to plant a kiss on his cheek.

It was Ivy who finally got them all settled back in again.

"No doubt your dinner's cold," she said, pointing to the long forgotten plates on the bar. "I can take them back to the kitchen..."

"Let Rose do it, Ivy," Hagrid said, pulling out a chair so she could sit down between him and Charlie. As she stepped forward her legs began to feel like Jell-O. Hagrid had to help her into the chair.

"I felt ok, before..." Ivy muttered, passing a hand across her face. For the second time in a week she looked at Hagrid and thought she would faint.

"Too bad Remus Lupin isn't here with some chocolate," Rose said, pointing her wand at the food on the bar. "It worked for dementors..." she finished as the others looked at her. 

"Oh no..." Ivy whined. "Now I have to be scared to go out after dark again."

"You'll stay here tonight, Ivy. Your house isn't ready to move into, anyway."

"You have a house here?" Charlie asked, finally getting to taste his pheasant stew.

"Yes," Ivy nodded, accepting her own bowl of stew from Rose, who'd brought it from the kitchen. "You can come see it tomorrow. Maybe you can help me redecorate."

Charlie laughed. "Nobody's ever asked me to do that before."

"It'll be fun." Ivy assured him. "And you can come, too, Hagrid. I need to know where to buy a giant-sized chair, for when you come over to visit."

Hagrid didn't answer. His eyes had gone a little glazed, and his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. He stared from Charlie to Ivy and back again, watching them chat about everything that had gone on in their lives while they were apart.

"Will you come?" Ivy asked again, later, tugging on his shirtsleeve. He shook himself a little, nodded, then hid his face behind his tankard of mead.

"I'll be there, Ivy," he said quietly. "I'll be there."

The night wore on, and as Hagrid and Charlie stood to leave, Ivy remembered something.

"Hagrid!" she said, slipping off her stool. "I have just the reward for saving my life." She disappeared into the kitchen, then reappeared with a lidded silver tray. Everyone backed away from Ivy as she set it on the bar. Everyone but Hagrid.

"Oh Ivy!" Rose said, waving a hand in front of her nose. "I forgot about those. Surely they've gone rotten by now..."

"They on'y get _better _wi' age," Hagrid informed her, wagging his head in Rose's direction and reaching for the lid.

"No! Wait," Rose panicked . "You can take them home. Keep the tray. Just please, _please_ don't open that thing up in here."

"Followed my recipe, did ya?" Hagrid asked Ivy, one eyebrow raised.

"To a tee," she assured him with a grin. "And I made enough for two." Her smiled faded as that slipped out, but she wouldn't let thoughts of the Beaxbatons headmistress ruin the moment.

"Hope you like them," she murmured, climbing onto a stool and leaning across to kiss his cheek. Her hand went to his face, and her thumb smoothed down one side of his moustache. Her heart ached to tell him that she loved him. 

"Thanks again for saving me from Valenkoff," she managed, dropping her hand and sliding out of the chair. She picked up the tray of stoat sandwiches and walked Charlie and Hagrid to the door.

"See you tomorrow," she called, as they walked down the street, Hagrid holding his prize to his chest, while Charlie tried to stay upwind. They waved, and then they were gone. Ivy pushed the door shut, leaning on it for a moment.

"What a night," Rose said from her place at the bar.

"I'll say," Ivy agreed, crossing the pub to stand at the bar while Renfroe got ready to leave.

"What I want to know is how Hagrid figured out what was going on," he said as he shrugged into his coat. "None of the rest of us knew there was anything wrong."

"He knows Ivy," Rose said softly. "Maybe better than I do. He must have noticed something the rest of us didn't see."

Later, as the women went up to their bedroom, Rose elaborated. "Hagrid saw what was happening because he loves you. Love is the most powerful magic of all. Remember that the next time you see him with Madam Maxime. No matter how star struck he looks when he's with her, it's you that he loves."

"He just doesn't know it yet?" Ivy questioned, grinning.

"I told you men were thick, Ivy. And giants... even thicker."

"I hope you're right," Ivy whispered, as she settled into her bed. "More than anything, I hope you're right."


	13. Of Dogs And Dragons

The next morning found Charlie Weasley at the Three Broomsticks in time for breakfast. He explained that he'd managed a few hours free from the mystery at Hogwarts as Ivy served him soft boiled eggs and toast.

"Rose gave me the whole day," Ivy told him. "She said something about needing a break from magical catastrophes."

Charlie laughed, and then gave Ivy a more serious look. "Everything OK, today? You haven't heard any more voices, have you?"

"No voices. No beetles. That spell Hagrid used did the trick. I slept better last night than I have in ages."

"And other than that..." Charlie asked, trying hard to be tactful. "How are things going since you came back? Any difficulties living around Magicals?"

Ivy shook her head, smiling. For once she would be free to share company with someone who knew about her lack of power and accepted her anyway. "Not many. I mean, none that aren't common to both worlds."

"Except the occasional vampire."

"And a dementor or two," Ivy grinned. 

"You don't miss the Muggle world, then? Not even a little?"

Ivy thought for a minute, and then shrugged. "Sometimes I miss light switches and microwave ovens, but I wouldn't go back, if that's what you're asking."

"And everybody's been understanding about your... erm..."

"Lack of magical abilities?"

Charlie gave her an apologetic look.

"I haven't really told anybody about that," she muttered, studying the bar. "I feel bad sometimes, but.... Father's one great fear was that I'd blemish the family name. So I'm keeping it clean. Mostly everybody here accepts me at face value. I did tell one person, but he didn't take it very well. Just yesterday, in fact. I think getting to see you again is exactly what I need."

"Who'd you tell?" Charlie asked, leaning forward.

"Zack Zonko," Ivy spat. The memory of his rejection still rankled.

"You haven't told Hagrid?"

Ivy let out a sigh. "I've been meaning to. I mean... I would have. Except for yesterday. I thought Zack would understand, and I was wrong. Dead wrong. Now I'm not sure I should tell anyone."

"If you stay long enough, it'll come out. Things like this have a nasty habit of doing that. Hagrid knows what it's like to be different. He'll understand."

"Where is Hagrid anyway?" she asked, changing the subject. "He said he'd be here."

"Think about it," Charlie answered, content to let the subject change. "There are dragons at Hogwarts. Where do _you _think Hagrid is?"

"Did any of them come with eggs? And have you got them counted?"

Charlie laughed and stood to his feet. "That reminds me, I can't stay gone too long. We brought in four nesting females and only thirty wizards. Bad odds, any way you count them. We're all going to have to stay close till this is over."

"But won't nesting females be... you know..."

"Extremely protective, easily provoked and utterly cantankerous? Exactly. I don't know what this task is, but it'll take every ounce of skill those kids have to get anywhere near them."

Ivy paled. "Can they handle it? I mean... can Harry?"

Charlie took her arm and they walked toward the door. "That's why _I'm_ here," he explained. "When the Ministry decided on the task and Dad got wind of dragons being involved, he requested me put on this team.

"'You watch over Harry, Charlie.' he said. 'Don't let anything happen to him. I mean it. If you want your mum to allow you showing your face at The Burrow again you'd best make sure he lives through this.'"

Ivy laughed at Charlie's antics, then sobered up. "And do you think he will? Live through it, I mean?"

"He'll do fine," Charlie told her. "He's a wizard, remember? Don't forget to factor in magic. He'll finish the task. I think he's meant for greater things than silly school tournaments. And don't tell Hagrid or Professor Dumbledore I said that."

"Promise," she grinned, remembering how excited Hagrid had been when he'd explained the Triwizard Tournament to her.

Charlie leaned over to examine the mark Valenkoff had left on Ivy's neck as they walked down High Street, arm in arm. It looked exactly the same as it had the night before, a beetle-sized red blotch with spidery tendrils radiating out in all directions.

"I've never seen an actual Vampire's Kiss," he said. "Heard about them, though. Vampires are dangerous enough, but this one... This one was really over confident. Most of the time they leave their little beetles in your blood stream and wait. They watch for a moment when everything's quiet and you're all by yourself. Then they call your name. And they keep calling until you answer."

"And then you're dead."

"No, Ivy," he murmured, gently tracing a fingertip over the spot. "Then you're _undead_. Forever. Or till someone comes along with a stake or silver bullets."

Ivy shuddered, thanking her stars once again for Rubeus Hagrid.

"There's a bright side though, if I remember my lessons. Now you're immune."

"To what?" Ivy asked.

"To the Vampire's Kiss. It won't work on you anymore. That beetle you felt crawling... it wasn't an actual bug. More like a dose of whatever runs through a vampire's veins. It left little particles behind in your bloodstream, which your blood attacked and absorbed. It'll reject any future little buggers out of hand."

"Like a flu shot?" Ivy queried. 

Charlie only gave her that apologetic look again, like she'd spoken in some foreign language.

"He had to have a point of contact though. Did he touch you?"

"He had my wrist," Ivy admitted, holding her arm out to him as they continued their walk to Ivy's house. "And he stared at me. You know... held my gaze. I thought it was his eyes that made me feel funny, but..."

"He was trying to distract you. Did it hurt?"

"No," she sighed, looking Charlie in the eye. "If I were magical - would I have known? Felt something? Anything?"

"I'm not sure. We learned about vampires in Defense of the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts, a _long_ time ago. But I know who we can ask," he continued as they approached Ivy's front gate. "Hermione Granger. She's about the smartest little witch I know."

"I've met her!" Ivy told him. "She comes to town on Hogwarts Weekends with your little brother Ron. First time we met I made the huge mistake of telling him how I used to feel about you. He didn't take it well."

"He has a major little brother complex," Charlie grinned. "And what do you mean, 'how I _used_ to feel'? Are you telling me you don't love me anymore? Trying to let me down easy?" 

"Charlie Weasley," Ivy cried, stopping in the middle of the path that led to her front porch. Sunlight glinted off her hair and brought a heightened sparkle to her green eyes.

"When I was 10 years old I _swore_ my love to you. Gave you a ring from my jewelry box and told you I'd wait for you to come back from Hogwarts. And you laughed and said I was too little and too skinny and you'd rather play with dragons."

"I was 11 years old," he reminded, tugging on her arm to get her back in motion.

"And I thought you hung the bloody moon," she told him.

Charlie leaned close and whispered, "You're letting that pub rub off on you."

Ivy grinned and slipped her key into the lock, then swung open the door. She was about to step inside, when Charlie pulled her back.

"Why do you suppose that was?" he mused. Ivy wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Why what was?" she murmured.

"Why'd you think _I_ hung the moon? I mean, there was Bill, nearly grown up, way cooler and more than able to sweep young ladies off their feet. Why'd you set your cap for me?"

Ivy finally looked him in the eye. "Maybe because you knew where you were going from the start. You told me you were going to be an expert dragon tamer. We played dragons every time we were together. I knew you'd do it and I knew you'd be really good at it. You were a certainty in my uncertain world."

Charlie gave a soft little laugh. "Did I really say that? 'Expert Dragon Tamer'?"

"You did," Ivy nodded, stepping inside successfully this time.

"Now I know better, reckon. Dragons aren't tamed. Controlled, maybe, but never tamed. A few give their trust to humans. Even fewer offer affection, but when I see a tame dragon, that's when I'm leaving Romania and heading back to The Burrow. Sounds like I had a lot to learn."

He stepped inside and Ivy showed him around.

"I still have that ring," he told her, pulling out his wand to produce a lovely blue and white dragon-lighting-a-fire-under-a-cauldron patterned wall paper for her kitchen.

"Really?" she smiled, trying to do a quick calculation of how many years ago she had put it in his hand. "It was your 'Going off to Hogwarts' present."

"Too bad you won't be keeping the promise that went with it..." he teased her.

Wrinkles appeared on Ivy's brow. "I don't..."

"You fancy Hagrid now, don't you?"

Ivy blushed, but managed to hold his gaze.

"In case you haven't noticed, Hagrid is infatuated with someone else."

"You didn't answer my question," he pointed out. "You came to Hogsmeade and he stole your heart away from me. Made you forget all your promises and turn your back on your first true love. Maybe I should have words with him."

Ivy laughed, but there was a bitter note to the sound.

"Don't bother." She studied the floor.

Charlie put a finger under her chin, pushing up gently till Ivy had to look him in the eye.

"I was teasing," he murmured, surprised to see a tear slide down her cheek "Hagrid's a good man. There's none better."

"I know," she whispered. "But he's in love with this incredibly large woman from Beauxbatons. When he looks at her it's like... like she's an incredibly large and beautiful woman with a _dragon egg _in her hands. I can't compete with her, Charlie. I'm only five-foot-seven, and my hands are decidedly empty."

"What about last night?" he questioned.

"What about it?" she countered, wiping her cheek.

"I've known Hagrid a long time. Don't think I've ever seen him that angry. If he'd have gotten hold of that vampire, Ivy... The term being 'torn limb from limb' came to mind."

"You haven't seen him with _her_." Ivy said. "And listen to me dumping all of my troubles on you. You're the last one who should have to sort out my life. What about you? Any prospective future Mrs. Charlie Weasleys?"

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "The dragons are my ladies. Always have been. It's dangerous work, but I couldn't live long without it."

"And you think a woman might make you quit? Do something safe like stay home and change diapers?"

"Or punch a clock at some bloody Ministry office," he grinned, flipping his wand at the sitting room walls.

"Or stock shelves in some dumpy shop on Diagon Alley."

"Exactly," he agreed as they examined a pattern of sleeping dragons done in beiges and greens. "Now I think we might have time for one more swish-and-flick. Is this your bedroom?" He walked down the tiny hall and looked around.

"You're changing the subject." Ivy blurted as she followed him.

"I'm finishing the wall paper." he insisted. "Let's see. In here you need something to remember me, when I go back to Romania. When I'm cold and all alone and you're snuggled up with what's-his-name."

"Charlie!" Ivy protested.

"_Decorum Instanto_."

"Charlie?" She wanted to be sure he was alright, and she wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

With a burst of blue from the end of his wand the walls were decorated with a pattern of vibrant green dragons resting on beds of gold and treasure, each with a lovely maiden sitting on its shoulder.

"There," he said, still ignoring Ivy. "One expertly tamed dragon."

"But you said dragons aren't tamed."

"You're not looking close enough," he said, taking her hand and pulling her closer to the wall. He brought her fingers up to a certain figure in the recurring pattern and pressed them gently to it. It was a tiny knight in shining armor astride a rearing white steed.

"That's me. That little speck there. See me? Watching over you. Any dragons you need tamed, don't hesitate to call."

"Charlie," Ivy whispered for the third time. He held up a hand to keep her from saying anything more.

"I've made my choices, love. I'm happy."

"No regrets?"

"I didn't say that."

"Ahhh! Then there are some. The mysterious Charlie Weasley takes off his armor. All right then... what are they?"

"Maybe I regret laughing at a certain skinny 10 year old."

"But you were only 11," she reminded, reaching out to take his hands.

Charlie laughed and pulled her into his arms.

"Let's go check on the ladies, shall we?"

Ivy returned his embrace, tightening her grip and releasing a ragged sigh.

"What is it?" Charlie asked, stroking her hair. But Ivy couldn't answer. Her sigh turned into tears, then deep-rooted sobs. She clung to him and Charlie did the only thing he knew to do: he held on. And finally Ivy's tears subsided.

"Was it something I said?" Charlie asked, cradling her face in his hands and drying her tears with the balls of his thumbs.

Ivy managed a weak laugh. "Not really," she sniffled. "It's just... seeing you again has brought up so many memories. The good ones, the great ones, _and_ the awful ones. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I'd had just a _little_ magic. I could have gone to Hogwarts and... come home for Christmas. And summer vacation. And maybe Mum would still be here. Or if she had to go... at least I could have been there."

"But then you wouldn't be here, now, doing fun things like getting attacked by vampires." He offered her his handkerchief, and she used it to unceremoniously blow her nose.

"I love Hogsmeade," she assured him. "The town, the people... That's why I wanted this house. It's just... seeing you reminds me of Molly. She and Mum were best friends. How they loved doing things together."

"I wish I could bring your mother back to you, Ivy. If it's any consolation, my mum did her best to convince your dad to let you stay. She and Elana both. It was their crusade after you... umm, well... when you were gone. But it didn't work. And after a while Elana stopped trying. I always wondered about that. Why did she let him send you away? Mum always said he had very good reasons, but I never understood why Elana backed down."

"Neither did I," Ivy whispered. "That's the worst part. My last visit to London should have been happy, but I made it miserable. Instead of enjoying the time with my mother I unleashed all my bitterness on her. I blamed her for not sticking up for me. I was _so_ full of hate. After that.... Do you know the next time I saw my mother, Charlie?"

Charlie swallowed hard and shook his head. He had an inkling, but he waited to hear it from Ivy's own mouth.

"Lying in a silver coffin in the living room of the grand and glorious Ollivander mansion. I killed her," she said, covering her mouth with her hand, as if with that motion she could stop the confession and then it wouldn't be true.

"No you didn't," Charlie insisted. "Elana was sick. They tried everything to save her. That I _do_ remember. Mum was frantic. Your father brought in wizards from every direction. Anybody who was even remotely rumored to have the ability to heal..."

"See," Ivy said, as if his comment proved her point. "She might have tried harder to live if I hadn't been so cruel. I didn't mean what I said, Charlie. I was hurt, and scared. And angry. I didn't want to go back to the States. I wanted to stay _home_. But I swear I still loved her, even if I told her the opposite. I didn't hate her. I didn't mean to break her heart."

"All of us have our time to go, Ivy. When that time comes, there's nothing anyone can do. You can't blame yourself for your mother's passing."

"My father does."

"You don't know that," Charlie said. "You haven't even spoken to him in years... have you?"

Ivy shook her head. "No."

"Then maybe you should. Talk to him. Tell him you're in Hogsmeade, and you're a big girl, and you're staying. You won't stand on the rooftops and proclaim that the Ollivanders produced a squib, but you have a home now, and this is where you'll stay."

She gave him a dubious look. "Maybe someday. But not now. I'm too afraid he'll take it all away. I couldn't go through that again. But look... we're late. We can't keep your ladies waiting forever."

"They can wait as long as it takes, you know that."

"No, really. I feel better now. Crying on your shoulder has helped more than you know." She said, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. 

"That's good," Charlie said, venturing a smile. "And since this is your first visit to Dr. Charlie's office in nearly twenty years, I won't charge for my services."

Ivy pulled a Hagrid and slapped his shoulder, frowning a little when she didn't get quite the same reaction. She didn't have near the weight behind her that Hagrid had, and Charlie didn't even flinch, let alone go sprawling across the room. His shoulders shook with silent laughter though, so she whacked him again, only gentler this time.

"We've got to get to Hogwarts, missy," he said, ruefully rubbing his arm. "Unless you'd rather stay here. I can go on alone..."

"No!" Ivy insisted. "I wouldn't miss this for anything. I haven't been to Hogwarts since Rosie's commencement. And I want a good look at your ladies."

Charlie gave her a nod, and they turned to leave, Ivy turning back to enjoy the look of each newly decorated wall.

"About that handkercheif..." Charlie started as they walked down the path. "You can umm... feel free to keep it."

Ivy snickered. "You don't want it back?"

"Umm... No. You just go ahead and..."

"I would have washed it."

"It's yours. This way you'll have one if you decide on a another crying jag anytime soon."

Ivy growled in indignation and raced out the gate, shutting it behind her to trap him in her garden. They were fighting over the gate when she happened to hear an all too familiar 'woof'.

"Blackie!" Ivy let go of the gate and turned toward the sound, watching the dog trot up the street. Forgetting Charlie for a moment, she dropped to one knee. When Blackie got there she threw her arms around him.

"Charlie!" she called, looking up to see him open the gate. "Come and meet my protector."

"I thought Hagrid was your protector," he teased.

Ivy stood to her feet. "All right then. Blackie is... one of the many."

Blackie gave Charlie a half-hearted woof and sat at Ivy's feet.

"You know..." Ivy thought out loud for a minute. "That path across the road over there... it leads straight to Hagrid's. We could use it and get to Hogwarts faster."

"Listen to you, sounding like a local," Charlie grinned. Then his smile faded. "The Forbidden Forest is really not such a good idea. Do you... I mean... I don't mean to pry, but... do you travel that way often?"

"No," Ivy retorted, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him for what he was suggesting. "But Hagrid said he'd clear it with whatever lives in there. He only told me about it a few days ago. It's not like I go running to his house on a regular basis or anything."

"But you would," he pointed out, with an exasperating grin as he tugged on her braid. "If he happened to send an invitation?"

__

I'd run all the way, she thought privately. Publicly she raised an eyebrow at Charlie. 

"I'm not talking to you anymore, Weasley. Honestly. If I'd have wanted a big brother to pester me, I'd have asked for one."

"You can't really ask for a big brother, Ivy. By nature big brothers come first.... I am just a special blessing sent into your life by a very benevolent Providence, thank you very much."

Ivy laughed, her hand resting on Blackie's head. As her fingers played absently through his hair an idea formed in her mind.

"Can Blackie come with us?" she asked. "He might enjoy seeing dragons, too. Especially dragons brought in just for the Triwizard Tournament." She bent over and pressed her cheek to the top of his head. "Don't you want to come with us and see what the first task is?"

Blackie's tail began to wag with enthusiasm.

"Does he have a friend in the competition or something?" Charlie teased, grabbing her hand.

"He might," Ivy murmured, giving the dog a long sideways glance. "You never know."

The dog woofed in earnest at that, and they took off toward Hogwarts, Blackie leading the way.


	14. Christmas Invitations

"Common Welsh Green," Charlie repeated for what was probably the tenth time. "That's the small one, over there. The red one is a --"

"Wait!" Ivy stopped him. "That's a Chinese Fireball."

"Exactly," Charlie grinned then stuffed another bite of a roast beef-on-rye sandwich into his mouth. They were sitting under a billowing green silk tent, its sides rolled up to allow the autumn breeze free access to the nine other wizards taking their turn at a lunch break. The other twenty stood guard over four of the most gloriously frightening beasts Ivy'd ever laid eyes on: the dragons brought in from Romania for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. 

"Alright then, Miss Dragon Expert. Which one's the Horntail?"

"Too easy, Charlie," Ivy grinned. "It's the one with the horned tail. And the last one's a... wait..."

Charlie squirmed in his chair and opened his mouth but Ivy waved her turkey-and-Swiss in his face. "Don't tell me! A Swedish Small-Nose. No... That's not right. Squash-Snout? Ummm..."

"Short-Snout," Charlie pretended to cough out the word.

"No fair! You told me," Ivy whined. 

"It's a'right, Miss Ivy, he won' be givin' ya a test when it's over," said one of the other dragon keepers in a decidedly Scottish accent. 

"Nah!" shouted another. "There'll be no test. At least not a test on dragons. It's the one-on-one study time Weasley prefers. "

The tent roared with good-natured laughter as Charlie rose to his feet in mock anger.

"Sit down," Ivy told him. "And finish your lunch. Your shift's coming up in a minute."

"You tell 'im Miss Ivy," the wizard beside her said. Ivy flashed him a grin, then stood to her feet. Something off in the distance caught her attention.

"Who's that walking with Professor Dumbledore?" she asked as Charlie sat down. But she didn't wait for his reply. There was something familiar about the way the sun glinted off the headmaster's companion. Something about his gait that Ivy knew as well as she knew her own soul. As they approached across the sea of thick green grass, she dropped her sandwich to her plate and ran toward them.

"Grey-Grand!" she shouted, throwing herself into his arms. "What on earth are you doing here?" 

The two older men exchanged glances, then smiled at Ivy, who's face fell as she stood before them.

"Is anything wrong? Has something happened?"

"No, no, my dear," Mr. Ollivander assured her. "I am only here to make sure that each champion in the Triwizard Tournament has fully functional equipment, that's all."

"He's just finished testing each champion's wand," Professor Dumbledore interpreted, smiling graciously. "And I thought perhaps he might enjoy joining his great-granddaughter for lunch. Really, Ivy. I was beginning to wonder if I should be hurt that you hadn't come to visit us sooner."

Ivy blushed a little and studied the grass beneath her feet. "Well I... you see," she sputtered, not knowing what to say. "Charlie Weasley is an old friend. He brought me here to see the dragons."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore sighed, stepping forward toward the lunch tent. "Fascinating creatures, aren't they? I don't suppose I'll get much work out of my Care of Magical Creatures Professor until they're gone. You did tell Mr. Weasley to count his eggs?"

Ivy laughed and fell in step beside her great-grandfather, happily taking his arm. "I'd check all his pockets before they leave too, if I were you."

"Noted, Ivy," The Headmaster nodded, his moustache twitching. "Do you mind if two old wizards join your party?"

"Of course not," Ivy murmured. She showed them to where she'd been sitting with Charlie, feeling for a moment as though they were back in the Three Broomsticks, and she was waiting their table.

Charlie came by to greet Dumbledore and Mr. Ollivander. "Sorry I can't stay and chat. Got to take my turn watching over the beasties." He rounded the table and kissed Ivy on the cheek. "But you're in good company. I'll see you in a bit." He directed the last toward Ivy, who nodded and gave him a wave.

"I haven't seen Charlie Weasley since your mother died," Mr. Ollivander said, bringing his wand out of the sleeve of his robe. He pointed to an empty plate where he sat and muttered "Corned beef on rye." Immediately his plate was filled. Professor Dumbledore did the same. 

"How are things in Hogsmeade, Ivy?" Mr. Ollivander asked as he started eating his lunch. "Tell us about your new home."

Ivy's eyes lit up, and she told them about her brand new wallpaper.

"Dragons in every room. That's what I get for asking a dragon keeper to help decorate."

"And how is dear Madam Rosmerta?" Dumbledore inquired. "Has she had any word from our friend, Remus Lupin?"

Ivy was captured by the ageless sparkle in his eye.

"Umm... no," she told him. "We haven't had word. Unless she has and just didn't tell me."

"I suppose love letters would be considered private business, yes," Dumbledore returned.

Ivy stared at Dumbledore open-mouthed. Was it possible that anything slipped by this man?

"My dear," Her great-grandfather spoke again, fixing his gaze on her neck. "Whatever has happened there?" He reached out and pointed a bony finger at the mark left on Ivy by the Vampire's Kiss.

Ivy's face went red. She turned away for a moment then looked back, still not sure if a magical person would have been able to avoid the attack, and so at a loss as to how to proceed.

"It's nothing... really," she muttered, her hand covering up the mark of its own accord. "Just one of the hazards of working at a pub, I suppose." She tried on smile, but failed miserably.

"Ivy," Mr. Ollivander said in a steely voice. "That mark came from a Vampire, did it not?"

"Oh, Grey-Grand... It's no big deal. Hagrid knew the counter-curse. I'm fine. Really." Her eyes went wide as she imagined him ordering her home.

As if in answer to her greatest fear, Ollivander addressed her again. "Perhaps this Hogsmeade experiment has failed."

"No!" Ivy insisted, quietly in order not to air all her dirty laundry in public. "Grey-Grand, please... everything's fine. I..." 

Ivy was shocked into silence as Professor Dumbledore spoke. Of all the people she could have imagined coming to her rescue, the headmaster had never entered her mind. 

"Your great-granddaughter is an asset to our community in Hogsmeade, Ollivander. She's one of us now. You'd have most of the townspeople on your head if you tried to get her to leave us."

Ivy swallowed hard. Tears burned the back of her eyelids at Professor Dumbledore's compliment, especially the part about considering her as _one of us_.

"Perhaps the only experiment that failed is the one your grandson attempted when he thought he could turn her into a Muggle." He leaned forward as if to share a secret. "I always sided with Elana on that one, my dear."

Silence hung over the little group for a moment, as Ivy realized that Professor Dumbledore knew a lot more than whether her best friend received love letters or not. Finally Mr. Ollivander reached out and grasped Ivy's hand. 

"I've always trusted Albus, here, Ivy. If he thinks you should stay, then I won't bring up your leaving again. I apologize, if my rashness has taken a bit of the joy from your day." He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek with quivering lips.

Ivy threw her arms around him and squeezed his bony shoulders. 

"I love you, Grey-Grand," she whispered into his ear.

"I know, I know," he said, smiling again. He patted her hand. The two finished up their lunch, and then Mr. Ollivander stood to his feet. Professor Dumbledore and Ivy did likewise.

"I must get back to the wand shop," he announced, adjusting his robes. "Bad for business, me being away."

Ivy laughed and helped him with his collar. She smoothed down the fabric that draped over his shoulders, then gave his arms a squeeze. 

"It's been wonderful to see you again. I'll be coming to Diagon Alley soon to pick out some furniture. I'll stop in and see you."

"You'd better," he murmured leaning forward to kiss her good-bye, then offered a half-bow to Professor Dumbledore. 

"Always a pleasure, Albus," he said. Then he muttered a few words over his outstretched wand and disappeared.

Ivy found herself once again studying the grass beneath her feet. After an awkward silence she turned her sea green eyes on Professor Dumbledore.

"So you knew my mother," she said glancing up at him. 

Professor Dumbldore nodded and offered her his arm. They began strolling toward the thick wooden fence behind which the dragons strained at their tethers.

"I've known your family for years," he confessed. "And I've known about you since before you were born. I suppose I am to blame for the discovery that you would be born without magical abilities."

Ivy loved him for not calling her a Squib.

"He asked me to tell him what you had in store for your future. A practice I don't usually advocate for parents-to-be, but your family and I go back for years and years. I read star charts and tea leaves, gazed into crystals, and they all said the same thing: an Ollivander would be born without magic, but find it along the way. I used to wonder if that meant you would be... as they say... a late bloomer. But the more I looked, the more it became clear. No magic for Ivy Ollivander. At least not the kind you can swish-and-flick." 

He got quiet for a long time, and Ivy was content to walk beside him while he lost himself in memories. 

"It's been quite an extraordinary day for you, hasn't it?" he said as they completed the circle around the dragon compound. Ivy agreed.

"The tears you cried this morning won't be your last, my dear," he continued. "But they will be the last you cry for Elana. You've been given a gift today. You laid Elana to rest when you cried on Mr. Weasley's shoulder. Did you know?"

Ivy contemplated him for a moment, the long, flowing whiskers that reached nearly to his knees, the twinkle in his eyes that encouraged her and gave her peace. In that moment she thought she could see why he was considered the most powerful wizard of the age.

"I thought something happened," she told him. "But didn't know _what_. I know I feel different. Better. Like a heavy rock's been lifted off my shoulders."

"Expatrios are extremely powerful spells. Perhaps some of Hagrid's counter-curse is still working on your behalf. Still driving tormentors out of your spirit the day after the vampire attacked you. His eyes narrowed as he leaned toward her. "Love is a fearsome magic, Ivy. It's the most precious of gifts."

She nodded in wonder, afraid to say a word for fear it would break the spell that had enveloped them.

"Speaking of Hagrid," Dumbledore announced, adjusting his robes. "Here he comes now. No giant headmistress in tow." He spoke the last into her ear and Ivy laughed as his whiskers tickled.

"I have enjoyed our afternoon together," he said, as they watched Hagrid walk in their direction. "One last thing, Ivy." 

Ivy took her eyes off Hagrid and focused on the Headmaster. 

"Keep that dog of yours well fed, will you? Tell him I request that he stay close until the Tournament is over."

Ivy's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly, a skill she decided she'd have to master if she was to spend much more time with Dumbledore.

"I will," she agreed, eyes dancing in delight. "Promise."

He took her hand and kissed it in a most gentlemanly fashion, continuing to hold it as he greeted Hagrid.

"Miss Ollivander and I have counted each and every egg, Hagrid," he announced, moustache twitching merrily. "We will count them again once the task is complete. And I don't want either of you attempting to climb this fence in my absence. It's too late in the year to replace a professor for Care of Magical Creatures."

"Perfesser Dumbledore," Hagrid greeted them, hitching his thumbs around his thick belt. "Ivy."

"I must leave the fair Miss Ollivander in your care now," Dumbledore said, offering Hagrid the hand he still held. Hagrid held his hand out, bowing at the waist. 

"I'll make sure she's safe, Perfesser."

"Thank you."

For a moment Ivy thought she caught Professor Dumbledore's lips moving as he placed her hand in Hagrid's, but when he was gone, and she and Hagrid stood alone in the lengthening shadows, she decided it was only a trick of the sun. Hagrid's thumb rolled across her fingers and she couldn't help but marvel one more time at how tiny her hand looked when resting in his. Their eyes locked, and his narrowed as they took in the mark at her throat.

"Aint' seen them vampire fellers down the pub no more 'ave yeh?" he asked, dropping her hand. His voice sounded strained, and he was showing a lot of interest in the thick wooden boards used to fence in the dragons. Ivy shook her head. 

"No vampires," she assured him. She had to step up onto the first board to see over the top of the fence. 

"That's a Hungarian Horntail," she said, proudly showing off what she'd learned from Charlie.

"And that red one over there, it's a Japanese Fireball."

"Chinese," Hagrid corrected softly, wiping away at something in his eye. "It's a Chinese Fireball. It can shoot fire near twenty feet. Beautiful, i'n't it?"

She flashed him a grin and tiptoed on the board to get a better look. "Absolutely gorgeous. I wonder what their babies will look like when they hatch."

Hagrid grunted. "I'll show ya a picture a Norbert, next time yer here. Got one up at the cabin."

Ivy didn't say anything, content to watch the scaly-skinned beasts with Hagrid at her side. All in all, it _had_ been an extraordinary day, and she didn't want to ruin it with words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He was amazing!" Ivy announced from behind the bar as she and Charlie, Rose, Hagrid and Renfroe celebrated the outcome of the first Triwizard Tournament task.

"Outstanding," Renfroe the barkeep agreed.

"Outrageous," Rose grinned, bringing a flagon of mulled mead to her lips.

"I knew 'e could do it," Hagrid boasted. "We're talkin' 'bout Harry, here. He's a thumpin' good li'l wizard."

"Summoning his broom to get around that Horntail was bloody brilliant," Charlie concurred. "You'll all be glad to know that Mum was ecstatic when she heard he'd made it out alive."

"And did I hear that the next task's not until February?" Ivy asked, face still flushed with excitement. "That'll give them a bit of a break." The pub was beginning to fill up with spectators bent on celebrating the outcome of the first task.

"Speaking of breaks, I may as well announce this now," Rose said. "The pub's closing for Christmas this year. Hogwarts is having a big affair, and Ivy and I are going to take a little vacation. You'll be off that week, too, Renfroe. And Ivy and I can go furniture hunting so she can move into her little house."

A surprised silence hung over the bar, but only for a moment.

"What's going on at Hogwarts?" Ivy asked.

"We're havin' a Yule Ball," Hagrid explained, a crimson blush sneaking across his cheeks. "It's part a the Tournament. To pr'mote some international app'reciation or summat."

"International unity and understanding, at least that's what Dumbledore said. "Rose continued. "We'll have to plan a New Year's party so we can get together and exchange our Christmas presents. Or give them out early. Either way, Ivy and I are going to London for the holidays."

Ivy gave Rose a puzzled look. London would not have been her first choice for Christmas travel. There was always the possibility there of running into her father. 

"I wouldn't mind spending Christmas in London myself," Charlie grinned. "As it is, I'm heading back to Romania first thing tomorrow. We've got to get those dragons home as soon as we can."

"Already?" Ivy pouted. "I was hoping you might get to stay for a while."

"I must see to my ladies, Ivy. Got to get them tucked in for winter or we may lose even more of our eggs."

"Wou'dn't wan' that ta happ'n," Hagrid pointed out.

Charlie stood to his feet. "Actually, I should probably head out now. It's a long trip, any way you look at it." He shook Hagrid's hand, then slapped him on the shoulder. "Always a pleasure seeing you, Hagrid. Be sure to take care of these ladies for me, will you?"

Hagrid gave a most solemn nod. "Yer doin' a great job wi' them dragons. Glad ta see ya stuck wi' it."

Charlie returned his nod. "Nice to meet you Mr. Renfroe," he continued, shaking his hand across the bar. "And Rosmerta. I always enjoy your company. Thanks for getting our Ivy back for us."

He embraced Rose, then released her, which left only Ivy.

"Could I..." he gave Rose an apologetic glance. "Can I borrow your bar maid for a minute or two?"

Rose patted his shoulder and nodded, then looked at Ivy. "Take as long as you need."

"But the pub's awful busy..." Ivy pointed out as she rounded the bar. 

"Renfroe and I can handle the pub," Rose reminded. "And if we have to we'll put Hagrid to work serving tables."

Ivy left her apron on the bar and took Charlie's hand. He led her out to the street. 

"I'd ask you to walk me back to Hogwarts, but then you'd have to walk back here alone." Charlie said, making his way through the crowd.

"I don't think I'd be alone," Ivy returned, pointing out the people still streaming in from the castle. "I wish you could stay a little longer."

"Me too, but duty calls. I can't leave all the grunt work to the other keepers. But it's been really good seeing you again."

Ivy grinned, forcing down the lump that began rising in her throat. "I hope you'll come back, soon."

"Are you kidding? Now that I know you're here, I'll be sure to pop in whenever I visit the Burrow."

"Really?"

"Promise."

"The dragons are awesome," she continued, suddenly at a loss for words. "I can see why you want to be with them."

"Ivy," Charlie murmured. He pulled her close and she answered his embrace with a fierce one of her own. "Keep Hagrid straight, won't you?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

"And you'll tell me the minute you meet the future Mrs. Weasley?"

Charlie gave a short laugh and tugged at the end of her braid. "You should wear your hair down more often, Ivy. It suits you." He untied the ribbon that secured her hair, smoothed it between his fingers a few times, then stuck it in his shirt pocket. Then he kissed her good-bye. Their lips met once, then again and again. Tears formed behind Ivy's eyelids and splashed down her cheeks when she ventured to open them.

"I love you, Charlie Weasley. You be careful with those dragons."

"Love you, too, Ivy. I'll see you soon."

Then he was gone, walking through the Hogwarts gates, head down, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his robes. Ivy didn't go back to the pub until she could no longer see him in the darkness.

When she got there Rose grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to the kitchen.

"What is it?" she asked, bewildered.

"Not what," Rose explained. "Who."

"Oh no..." Ivy muttered. "Madam Maxime's here, isn't she?"

"No, Ivy, not Maxime. Someone who could do even worse things to your future. Rita Skeeter."

Ivy gave Rose a perplexed look. "I've never even heard of Rita Skeeter."

"She's a reporter for the _Daily Prophet. _Strictly gossip. She doesn't care who her pen destroys. I want you to stay back here till she's gone. She doesn't need to go poking around in your business."

"She won't even notice me," Ivy insisted. "I'm just waiting tables."

"Look Ivy, I know you've just been with Charlie, and you told me about Dumbledore. They're important people and they've accepted you just as you are. And so have I. But Skeeter could ruin you. She could ruin everything, if she dug back far enough. It's not worth the risk. Just stay back here and scrub potatoes. Make some more of those god-awful stoat sandwiches. I don't care what you do, just do it in the kitchen till she's gone."

"OK," Ivy said, frightened a little by Rose's strict demeanor. "I'll stay in the kitchen."

"You swear?"

"I swear, Rose. I won't leave the kitchen till that Skeeter woman's gone."

"Good." Rose rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I'm going back to help Renfroe." Turning toward the root cellar, she bent and called out to the house elves.

"Willa! Get your cousins and come up here. Looks like we're in for a late night."

Ivy saw her stick her head farther down the stairs, muttering something to Willa, but she didn't bother trying to hear. She was busy imagining all the terrible headlines that could be concocted if anybody poked into her past. They wouldn't have to go far to put two-and-two together. Of course her father would deny it and stick to his story, that he'd sent her away to protect her from Voldemort. And maybe most people would believe him. But her life at Hogsmeade would be over. Visions of one-way tickets to Antarctica or Iceland danced in her head as she took a seat at the kitchen table. Willa patted her hand and served her some tea.

Later, as Rosmerta and Ivy finally headed up to their beds, Ivy asked again about Rita Skeeter.

"Is she here just for the tournament, do you think?"

"She goes wherever the stories are," Rose said. "And she shows up where there're no stories sometimes and makes something up. It just depends on how desperate she is for headlines. She wrote a piece on the new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody. It wasn't very flattering."

"You mean that fellow, Mad-Eye?" Ivy shuddered. "I keep wondering why he comes in here, refusing to drink anything but whatever's in his flask."

"Paranoid, that one is," Rose grinned. "He's seen too much of the dark arts, if you ask me. Now let's forget about Rita Skeeter _and_ Professor Moody. It's nearly 3 AM. We're going to go to sleep, and when we wake up we can make our plans for London."

Ivy gave Rose a sideways glance. "Why do you want to go to London anyway?"

Rose tumbled onto her bed with a mischievous grin. "Well, because we were invited, of course."

Ivy dropped onto her bed, and then rolled over onto her stomach to study her friend.

"Invited by who?"

"Whom, dearie. Say 'invited by whom.'"

"Invited by whom?" Ivy repeated, sticking her tongue out at Rose. "Another long lost friend?"

Rose laughed out loud. "I think your powers of perception are getting stronger. Have you been studying tea leaves again?"

"Rose!" Ivy exclaimed. "Just tell me! Invited by whom?"

"Only a certain previous professor of Defense of the Dark Arts. Only the person who snatched you from the jaws of a dementor. Only..."

"Remus Lupin?!" Ivy guessed, nearly coming up off of her bed.

"Yes," Rose said, suddenly yawning. She turned away from Ivy and snuggled down under her covers. "Night, Ivy." she murmured.

"That's all you're going to tell me?" Ivy continued. "We're going to Remus Lupin's for Christmas, goodnight? I should whack you with my pillow for that."

She picked up her pillow and swung it toward Rose, who was already expecting the blow. Wand outstretched, she blasted it back at Ivy

"Go to sleep," Rose commanded. "You can hear the rest in the morning."

"It's morning now," Ivy threw back. She waited for Rose to reply, but heard nothing. Finally soft snores sounded from the other side of the bedroom. Ivy slowly sank ever lower beneath her own blankets, and before she knew it, her snores were harmonizing with those of her friend.


	15. Skeeter Bites

"Big Bones. Sez she has big bones," Hagrid grunted, walking past his hut in a dazed sort of way. How could he have been so wrong about Madam Maxime? He crashed through the woods, feet headed in the direction they always turned when he needed a friend. To the Three Broomsticks Pub. To Ivy Ollivander.

"Jus' one look an' yeh'd know it were more'n big bones," he continued grousing. But Madam Maxime had been like a dream to him. Elegant, beautiful, and LARGE. He thought she'd understand how it felt to be different, thought she'd experienced the same sort of prejudices he had all his life. But she'd denied it at the Yule Ball. Flat out called him a liar to his face. 'How dare you?' she'd asked him. How dare he point out the truth? 

She wasn't like Ivy at all. Ivy laughed at every one of his jokes. Even the bad ones. She made him stoat sandwiches and let him win their card games. Told him stories about giants who were heros. Knowing he'd chosen Maxime over Ivy for the Yule Ball made him heartsick. Knowing he'd done his best to push Ivy at Charlie Weasley, just to ease his conscience, only made him feel worse. 

"Yeh bin stupid," he told himself, as he reached the stream. Crossing it in one great step, he continued up the bank. Ivy's house was dark. That could only mean she was helping Rosmerta at the pub. He changed course, heading down High Street, mouth already watering for a tankard of Rosie's mulled mead. That was just what he needed. An ice cold drink and some of Ivy's conversation. Maybe he'd ask her over to the hut for dinner. Maybe a nice private Christmas party of their own. 

"She wouldn' say no," he encouraged himself. "She'd never...."

He stopped in front of the pub, but it was closed. And dark, and silent. A sheet of parchment tacked to the door fluttered in the wind. Climbing the steps, Hagrid peered at the lettering. 

"Gone to London for Christmas," it said. It was hand signed by Rosmerta and Ivy, and a "Happy Christmas!" had been added at the end, in Ivy's handwriting. Hagrid smoothed over her name with one huge finger.

"Gone," he whispered. He remembered her telling him about the trip, and how she didn't really want to go. "She'd eh stayed here if yeh'd asked _her_ ter the Ball instead of Big Bones Maxime." He sank down on the pub's top step, cursing himself for letting Ivy get away. 

Hogsmeade sat quiet and peaceful, glittering like a an enchanted snow globe. He surveyed the scene for a moment, wrestling with himself. In his heart of hearts, he knew Ivy loved him, and in all honesty, he loved her, too. It scared him to admit it. He'd spent a lot of years content as a bachelor. But every now and then, when he looked in Ivy's eyes, he could imagine himself letting go of that life. Imagine coming home after a long day to her open arms. To those sea-green eyes and the freckles that danced across her up-turned nose. 

Sitting in front of the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid shuddered, rubbing his face with both of his hands. That feeling of falling from a hippogriff's back swept through him again, as he stood to his feet. The sky was beginning to lighten. It was time to go home. As he descended the steps an owl hooted softly above him. It dropped its delivery, a rolled up _Daily Prophet. _Hagrid bent and picked up the newspaper. Tucking it under his arm, he headed home, encouraged that Ivy'd be back soon. He could almost see her look of outrage when he'd tell her about Maxime.

"Big bones," he muttered. "Can yeh imagine?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good Morning!" Remus Lupin exclaimed, sliding into a seat at his kitchen table. "And Happy Christmas!" Rose came in right behind him, hair tousled, wrapped up in one of Lupin's worn robes. Both of them stopped short when they encountered Ivy, already dressed for travel.

"Where are you going?" Rose asked, pouring a steamy cup of tea and handing it to Lupin.

"I have to go home," she stated, passing them Lupin's copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "I made all the arrangements while you were asleep."

Remus opened up the paper and Rose read over his shoulder. 

"Can you believe that?" Ivy asked, adding another lump of sugar to her tea, oblivious to the four she'd already put there. "Rita Skeeter has spread lies about Hagrid all over the newspaper. She practically comes right out and calls him a monster. He's not going to take this well. That's why I have to go home. My Great-Grandfather sent me a train ticket. I don't mean to ruin the holidays...."

"It's all right, Ivy," Remus told her, looking up from the parchment. "Don't worry about that."

"Maybe I should go with you," Rose added hotly. "This woman has gotten totally out of hand. What a load of rubbish." She went on to quote from the article. "'An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care....' 'Hagrid has maimed several pupils....' This is outrageous!"

Tears leaked from the corner of Ivy's eyes. "It'll devastate Hagrid. I have to go home."

"Of course you do, Ivy," Remus agreed. "When does your train leave? Rose and I will take you to the station."

Ivy passed him her ticket. "I still have a few things to pack. And the Christmas present I bought for Hagrid is at the shop for special engraving."

"I'll send an owl to see if it's ready," Rose assured her. "And when you get home you tell Hagrid that I love him, too. And nobody who knows him will believe a word of this... this garbage."

Ivy managed a smile. "I will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arrival at Hogsmeade station, Ivy headed straight for Hogwarts and Hagrid's hut. Arms full of gifts she'd bought for Christmas, she could barely drag her suitcase up the hill. Finally, in exasperation, she gave up, leaving it leaning against Hogwart's wrought-iron gate. Thus freed, she could suddenly walk a lot faster. The snow-laden sky was beginning to darken as she marched across the grounds, past the gigantic Beauxbatons carriage, and up Hagrid's front step.

"Hagrid!" She pounded on the door, but got no answer. "Let me in," she insisted, descending the steps to walk around back. She hammered on this door too, getting no reply save Fang scratching and whining at the door. 

"I came all the way back from London to talk to you," she all but shouted at a crack in the door. "I've been on the train all day. And I have every intention of staying right where I am till you open... THIS... DOOR!"

Her pleadings were met with no response.

Ivy brushed some of the snow off the top step and sat down. 

"I brought you a present!" she hollered, but still got nothing. The sky turned ever darker. Night brought a chill wind with it. The temperature dropped and Ivy's teeth began to chatter. Every 30 minutes or so she'd stand to her feet and bang on the door.

"Hagrid..." Ivy whined, going for a new tactic. "I'm freezing. Would you please let me in? Just for a minute. I need to warm up." She slid into a sitting position against the door, carefully arranging the Christmas presents on her lap. Her breath drifted in white puffs toward the moon.

The temperature dropped as the wind blew harder, and sleep slowly overtook her. She might have frozen to death right there on Hagrid's back step, except that sometime after midnight he pulled open the door. He reached outside, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and pulling her in where it was warm.

Ivy gasped in surprise, blinking snowflakes off her eyelashes, and standing stiffly to her feet. There was no feeling left in her toes or fingers, but she managed to pick her packages up off the floor.

"Cold...." she spoke through stiffly clattering teeth. "It's... cold... out there." Dropping her load on the table, she turned to Hagrid. 

She'd expected him to be hurt deeply by the things Rita Skeeter had written. She even half-expected to find him drunk, or drinking. But she never expected the dead, hollow look in his eyes, the lack of color in his usually ruddy complexion. His hair stuck out in mass tangles, and when Ivy reached out to him, the giant pulled away. He turned from her without a word, slumping into his chair by the fireplace.

"Hagrid...?" Ivy managed, crossing the room to stand in front of the fire. "I was going to ask if you were alright, but...." She dropped to her knees before him, and it became evident that he hadn't bathed in a while. His clothes were dirty, and his shirt stank of whatever he'd been drinking. Ivy's eyes welled up with tears.

"Have you eaten?" she whispered. "Can I get you anything?"

"No," he replied, scowling. "Don' need nuthin' from you, 'er anybody else."

"I... I brought you some Christmas presents. From me and Rose and Remus Lupin. And Rose told me to tell you that she loves you. And that nobody believes what that Skeeter woman wrote about you in the paper."

Hagrid continued to stare into his fire. Every now and then a tear would leak from his eye, slipping silently down his cheek to pool in his beard.

"I love you, too," Ivy continued. "And that's why I'm here."

Hagrid turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Came ter see the freak, did yeh? The monster what's been maimin' all the kids up at Hogwarts?"

Ivy blinked, determined not to let his gruff exterior push her away.

"I came to see my friend," she whispered. 

Hagrid closed his eyes and turned away.

"The friend who taught me I was brave enough to ride a hippogriff." Ivy said, standing to her feet. "The friend who lets me get away with beating him at cards. The friend who dragged me off the street to protect me from dementors. You know..." she continued, dragging a cauldron over to the fireplace and adding some water for stew. "Rubeus Hagrid? Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts?"

"Yeh shouldn't be here," Hagrid muttered. "Don't waste yer time on me. Go back ter whatever yeh were doin' b'fore yeh read the paper."

"I can't do that," she replied, smiling as she rummaged through his vegetable bin. "My friend might need me."

"A'right then. If this is yer mercy mission... ter help some ruddy helpless mindless monster, then gimme a drink."

"Is that how you want to handle this?" Ivy asked, climbing into a chair to pull a row of sausages from its hook on the ceiling. "Bury your feelings in a tankard of ale? How long do you think you can hide there?"

Slapping his hands on his thighs, Hagrid sighed and stood to his feet, crossing the room to throw open the door. 

"If yeh don' like it, yeh can always leave."

"I'm _not_ leaving!" Ivy said, her chin jutting out defiantly. Swirls of snow were blown inside by a great gust of wind, and once again she started to shiver. "And you can't make me. You can't push me away with ugly words. It took me all night to get in here. I'm not going anywhere, now. 

"Forget about Rita Skeeter, Hagrid. Throw what she wrote in the fireplace and watch it burn, just like all the other trash that gets burned there. Concentrate on what's true. You're not a monster. You're a wonderful, kind, caring person and... and..." She wavered, physically aching to tell him how much she loved him, but afraid to burden him further. 

"So many people love you."

Hagrid only grunted, filling his tankard and bringing it to his lips.

Ivy watched him consume mass quantities of ale, temping him with food, with the presents she'd brought, anything she could think of to get his mind off the Skeeter article. All to no avail. 

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Hagrid began to sob. He buried his face in his over-sized handkerchief, throwing himself across the kitchen table. Ivy stared. She'd never dealt with torment this deep, sadness this bitter. She didn't know if going _to_ him would bring more comfort, or giving him space. But it wasn't in her nature to stand by when someone she loved was hurting, so after a few false starts, she finally approached him.

"Hagrid?" she murmured, laying a hand on his heaving shoulder. He shivered a little, but didn't push her away. Encouraged, she stepped closer and closer, until, throwing caution to the wind, she flung her arms across his shoulders. Pressing her cheek against him, she blinked back tears of her own.

"It isn't true," Ivy whispered. "You mustn't believe it. Nobody else does. They all see straight through that Skeeter woman. She's nothing but a liar, Hagrid. You're a good person...." On and on she murmured words of encouragement, holding on to him as tightly as she could. For a long time, Hagrid didn't act as though he knew she was there. He didn't respond to her whispers or her touch. But slowly... ever so slowly, he sat up in his chair, rubbing his face with his now-sopping handkerchief.

"Tho't Maxime were enough trouble fer one man ter handle," he croaked. "Never saw the Skeeter thing comin'. Don' think I can take too much more."

"You don't have to take it," Ivy insisted. "None of it's true. Rita Skeeter's a liar. All your friends already know that."

Hagrid wasn't listening. "Big bones," he muttered, reaching once again for his tankard. "There summat wrong with havin' big bones, Ivy?" He looked at her with bleary eyes. "Reckon I know that one. It's a shame ter be a _giant_. Even half giant. You wouldn't know how that feels though. Yeh got ever'thin' goin' yer way. Nothin' ter hide. Nothin' ter be ashamed of."

Ivy gave a bitter laugh. "Are you sure?"

Then it was Hagrid's turn to laugh. The broken, hollow sound of it made Ivy's blood run cold. She stood to her feet, turning away to hide the sadness on her face. Picking up the package she'd brought him from London, she set it on the table in front of him.

"Happy Christmas."

Hagrid stared at the blue and silver embossed paper. 

"It ain't gonna work," he muttered, pushing the package away. "Yeh ain' gonna distract me. Now I know that ever'body hates me. They all think I'm an evil monster -"

Ivy slapped her hand down on the table so hard it sent a shock of pain all the way up her shoulder. "Everybody _doesn't_ hate you," she insisted. "Nobody but Rita Skeeter thinks you're a monster. You don't know _everything_, you know. There are some people around here who would love nothing more than to tell you just exactly how much you mean to them. Some people would like nothing better than to just _stay_ here. Just be... with you...." She stopped herself, running a trembling hand through her hair. Taking his hand in her own, she picked it up and dropped it onto the silver wrapping. 

"Open this," she demanded. "And you'll see that there _is_ someone who believes in you."

Hagrid stared at her, open-mouthed, his fingers picking absently at the paper. In his alcohol-induced haze, he wasn't quite sure if Ivy was saying what he thought she was saying. Her eyes blazed at him, and he had to drop his gaze, ripping the package open with a vengeance.

Under the wrapping was a miniature model of Stonehenge, the mysterious rock grouping that Ivy called _Estonehenge, _or_ Dance of the Giants. _He tried to read the engraving on the base, but couldn't get his eyes to focus.

"It says, _'The dance that saved an island from evil began with one giant step.'_" Ivy told him. "The other side says 'Dance of The Giants.' Do you remember the story I told you about _Estonehenge_? About the little giant, Shim? How he sacrificed himself for his friends, and got his wish? To be big?" She waited for him to respond, but he remained silent, lurching to his feet and toppling dangerously in Ivy's direction.

"I don' deserve a frien' like you, Ivy," he slurred, tilting against her. "Nobody's stuck by me like you have. Nobody else cares." 

Ivy flung her arms toward him, attempting to stop him from crushing her as he stumbled. Pulling on his arms with all her might, she got his body turned toward the bed. He lost his balance then, grabbing onto Ivy as he felt himself tipping. Then they were falling backward, and Ivy found herself pinned beneath Hagrid. A sharp pain flashed across her back as they landed, their fall broken by the quilt-covered bed. 

It took a few seconds for Ivy to realize what had happened. She was trapped underneath him, but not unpleasantly. The feather mattress beneath them encapsulated Ivy, saving her from the bulk of Hagrid's weight. She could wriggle free if she tried hard enough, but for a while she was content to stay where she was. She reached out and caressed his blotchy cheek, shaking her head as he began to snore in her face. 

"Damn, Hagrid," she muttered. "You sure know how to flatter a girl." She pulled her arms free, wrapping them around his neck. Before she realized it, she was kissing his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears on her lips. Tears of her own welled up behind her tightly closed eyelids, as she wished for the power to make his pain disappear.

Something in her kisses must have stirred him. His eyes opened, and as their eyes locked, Ivy knew that he knew how she loved him. She loosened her grip, watching as his cheeks reddened, and he rolled off her.

"Ivy..." he murmured . "I di'nt mean...."

"Please don't apologize," she whispered. "Not for needing a friend." 

"Friends," he continued thickly. "Who're my friends? Who is it tha's gonna stan' b'side me when Dumbledore sacks me an'... I ain't go a job no more... 'r a place ter stay?" Even as he spoke his eyelids got heavy. Heavier than they'd ever been. "You, Ivy? Will yeh be there when the ale wears off, an' all I can think of is what tha' Skeeter woman wrote?"

"I'll be here," Ivy murmured, reaching out to stroke a strand of his hair. 

"Promise?" his voice trailed away and he began snoring softly even before she could manage an answer.

"I swear."

She crawled to the end of the bed and wrestled off his boots, then reached across his middle to undo his silver belt buckle. Her hands slid down his chest, where they rose and fell with his snoring. Kneeling beside him, there on his bed, she reached a trembling hand out to smooth his furrowed brow. The hand lingered, fingers gently brushing back his hair. Then she slid down beside him, throwing her arm across his chest and using his shoulder for a pillow. 

"I'd stay here forever, if only you'd ask me," she told his sleeping form. "I love you."

She closed her eyes, pretending with all her might that she belonged here. That Hagrid had asked her to share his house and his bed. But it didn't work. No matter how hard she tried, she knew she wouldn't be here if he hadn't passed out cold. The fact that Hagrid no longer even knew she was there bore into Ivy like the bite of a cold steel drill. She rolled over on the bed, turning her back to him and staring out the window. Her movement must have registered his sleep, for Hagrid rolled over, curling up on his side. Whispering her name, he threw his arm around her, pulling her close so she fit neatly against him. Ivy smiled a little and reached for his hand, pressing her palm into his as though it belonged there. Hagrid's fingers flexed over her own, and she sighed. Maybe this wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when she'd imagined sleeping with Hagrid, but for now, she was home, and she decided not to complain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	16. A Very Special Request

Author's Note: With this chapter we dive off into AU-land, since, as of this writing nobody knows what's going to happen at Hogwarts after Harry's fourth year. So I have taken liberties.... Thanks inexpressible to those who are still reading! L.G.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hagrid, what's happened?" Ivy asked as she managed to break through the milling crowds to join him. Black clouds scudded across the night sky as a breeze whipped at her hair. A thick fog had begun rolling into the valley, obscuring the giant maze where the Triwizard Tournament champions were to complete their final task. Only two of them had come out so far; Fleur Delacour, and Victor Krum.

Ivy had decided to find Hagrid when the other onlookers began to get restless.

"Harry's gone," Hagrid choked out. "Him and Cedric both. Disappeared."

"He's not just... lost in the maze somewhere?"

"Nah," Hagrid insisted. "I been walkin' the maze near an hour. Neither one a them boys's in there."

Ivy believed him. She'd caught him pacing the outer perimeter of the maze, and he seemed impatient to continue his mindless trek even as they spoke. The look on his face went past worry.

"We shouldn'a let a kid like that in in the firs' place. He weren' ol' enough. Other three had three year a trainin' on 'im."

Ivy reached out to grasp his sleeve and he stopped, looking down at her as thought she'd just appeared.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Hagrid covered his face with his hands, rubbing vigorously. Focusing on Ivy, he shrugged. "Dunno," he managed a half-hearted smile. Sitting down on a nearby bench, he beckoned her forward. "I ain't in a state to be makin' decisions, Ivy. Maybe you should be lookin' fer Dumbledore."

Ivy stood at his side. Even with Hagrid in a sitting position, she still had to reach up to put a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, the milling crowds were forgotten as she looked into his eyes. "But I'm asking _you_. Maybe there's something.... I could help you search the maze again."

"NO!" Hagrid stopped her. "Yer not ter go in there. I can't lose anymore -" That wild-eyed look came back, but only for a moment.

"There's summat wrong here, Ivy, I know that much. Ever'thin' feels... wrong." He turned to look toward Hogsmeade. "Yeh should go home, but ya can't. Not wi'out me, and I'm not leavin'"

"Hagrid... I...."

He shook his head, his great mane of hair blowing madly about. "Tha woods're too dangerous at night."

"But Firenze...."

"No. That's my final word on it. Go to the cabin an' wait fer me ter get there. It's the safest place right now." He stood to his feet, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her in the direction of his hut. It winked reassuringly at them from across the lake.

"Take that dog wi' ya an' go straight there." Before he let her go, he turned her back to face him. 

"Yeh promise ter do as I said?"

Ivy looked him in the eye. She wasn't about to argue. Maybe in the past, but not anymore. Too much had transpired between them, and although they never spoke of it, Ivy didn't hide her affection for Hagrid anymore. She swallowed hard and nodded.

"I promise. I'll go straight to your house. _And_ I'll take Blackie. We'll find Harry, Hagrid. I'm sure of it." She reached up to pat his chest, just over his heart.

"Don't lose hope."

He blinked a few times and pulled her into a bone crushing embrace.

"Hope yer right, Ivy," he muttered into her hair. "By Merlin's beard, I hope yer right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Blackie, wait!" Ivy rushed to catch up as the dog galloped across the grounds. No matter how hard she ran, her two legs in a split skirt were no match for his four. But she understood the need to hurry. She felt it herself. Hagrid was right. Something didn't _feel _right. She tucked her chin, gathered her skirts and determined to catch up.

When she got to Hagrid's hut she called out to the dog, following the sound of his barks to the pumpkin patch. When she caught up, he continued on into a patch of corn. By the time Ivy got there he'd already transformed, and as Sirius Black he reached past the corn stalks and grabbed Ivy's arms, pulling her into his leafy green hide out.

"What's happened, Ivy? What's gone wrong? Where the bloody hell is Harry?"

Ivy's brow creased as she took in his worry, knowing she didn't have any concrete answers.

"Hagrid only told me he disappeared, along with Cedric Diggory. Hagrid's been searching the maze for hours...."

"I saw them take Krum and the Beauxbaton's girl out. But Harry..."

"I know. Something's gone wrong." She stopped when she realized that her words were doing nothing to comfort her friend.

"Hagrid won't let me go home," she continued in another direction. "Says the forest is too dangerous at night."

"He's right, there," Sirius agreed. "I've been in that forest at night. We'll just wait here. And trust that Harry and Cedric have what it takes to get themselves out of this."

He began to pace the corn row, and Ivy had to wonder if that was how all men dealt with uncertain situations. She knew how women handled them, so she grabbed his arm in hopes of stopping his restless feet.

"Sirius.... I've been thinking," she began quietly. "About the house. And... how you refuse to stay there...."

Sirius gave her a curious look, convinced that now was not the time for idle chatter.

She shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. "Just thought I'd try some stimulating conversation. You know, to get our minds off our worries."

Sirius chuckled softly. "Only you'd decide that now's a good time to start up an argument. Maybe you're right. Worry's not going to help Harry, anyway."

"Not really," Ivy murmured, casting her gaze to the ground.

"Alright then, what about your house? I haven't changed my mind about that. The less you're seen with me, the better." He reached out, tilting her head up till she had to look at him. "Someone's going to spot me one day, Ivy, and I refuse to let you go down with me."

"I know, I know," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "We've gone over that. But... there may be a way."

Sirius shook his head. "Should I say it again? Slowly, so you'll understand?"

"You're not letting me finish," Ivy replied, a little louder than she'd meant to. How she wished he'd change his mind and at least take the basement she'd offered, instead of living out in the forest.

"You told me once that there's a secret tunnel leading out of Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack, right?"

"Yes," Sirius nodded, remembering fondly the late night conversations she'd talked him into during the worst of the winter. He had his suspicions that she'd kept him talking only as a pretense to keeping him warm. "But what does that have to do with -" 

Ivy held out her hand to stop him. "I was only thinking that you and Harry could link my house to that tunnel. The Shrieking Shack's not far from me. We could dig through to my basement and then you and Harry would have a meeting place. No one would ever know. Professor Dumbledore could even cast some kind of Invisibility Charm over the place or something."

"Oh, so you don't think _my_ powers are up to Invisibility Charms?" he teased.

"I think it would work," she insisted. "Will you at least consider it?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You're very persistent, you know that?" he muttered. "Not to mention hard to resist."

At that moment Ivy knew she'd won the argument, finally. She was just about to say so when she heard a voice calling from the front of the house. She and Sirius exchanged worried glances.

"I'll go and see..." Ivy started, heading for the sound. Looking back, she saw that Sirius had already transformed and was taking refuge under the broad leaves in Hagrid's pumpkin patch. Ivy pushed through the corn just in time to see Professor McGonagall heading in that direction.

"Professor!" she called, hoping to distract her.

"Who's there?" McGonagall replied.

Ivy stepped out of the garden and into the moonlight. "It's me, Professor. Ivy Ollivander."

"Oh... Ivy," McGonagall said, relaxing a bit. "I wasn't expecting you here. Professor Dumbledore sent me to look for a... dog."

"A shaggy... black dog?" Ivy asked, heart beat quickening. "Has something happened?"

Professor McGonagall studied her for a minute and Ivy knew she was trying to decide how much she should say.

"It's alright," Ivy assured her. "The dog you're looking for is a friend of mine. If Professor Dumbledore sent for him it can only mean one thing. Something's happened to Harry Potter."

"Potter will be fine," McGonagall assured her. "Sadly, I cannot say the same for Cedric Diggory." Sorrow flooded the Professor's features, and Ivy's blood ran cold.

"Is he...?" she couldn't bring herself to finish the question, as young Cedric's handsome features flashed through her mind.

"I'm afraid so," McGonagall muttered. "And more will die as well, if we don't take action now. The dog. Is he here with you? I must get him back to the castle at once."

Ivy turned to the pumpkin patch, where Blackie was already emerging. When he got to where she was standing she knelt at his side.

"Promise you'll come tell me what's happened, as soon as you can."

Blackie woofed softly and snuffled her hair in affirmation.

"Be careful," she whispered, hugging him fiercely, and then standing to her feet. She watched them leave the garden, then turned toward Hagrid's house. She'd just begun to walk in that direction when a familiar voice called her name. Turning toward the sound, she watched as a massive centaur stepped out of the shadows.

"Ivy Ollivander," he greeted her most solemnly. "You must go back to Hogsmeade."

"But Hagrid said -"

"Rubeus Hagrid is the one who requested I carry you home," the centaur cut her off, impatiently stomping the ground. "There are evil winds blowing tonight. Have you not noticed the way the constellations have aligned? This day was written in the stars, Ivy Ollivander. You must go where you'll be safe."

Ivy didn't argue any further. She walked to a tree stump set in Hagrid's back garden for just such a purpose, climbed onto it, and waited for Firenze to approach. He still had to bend at the knee for Ivy to scramble across his broad back. When he was sure she was settled, they entered the forest.

"What else do the stars say, Firenze?" she ventured, clinging to his thick mane of hairas he maneuvered through the forest with ease. Everything was quiet. Too quiet. The total lack of ground chatter and tree noises left Ivy a bit unnerved.

"Many mysteries unfold up there, Friend of Hagrid," he said over his shoulder. "Some concern us, others do not. I have noticed Mars drawing closer to Saturn, but yet they remain apart."

"Mars and Saturn?" Ivy repeated.

"Have you noticed that planets to not blink, as stars do, Ivy Ollivander? When Mars and Saturn align, only one bright light will be visible, where once there were two. It is a sign that soul mates have found one another."

"Soul mates...." Ivy murmured, wondering if this was one of these mysteries that concerned her or not. She contemplated his words as they came to the Hogsmeade side of the forest.

"I will be watching Mars and Saturn," Firenze announced as he knelt to allow her to dismount. "It is not often they align."

"And how far is the distance between them?" Ivy wondered aloud.

Firenze studied her face, his look didn't leave her feeling very hopeful.

"The distance is great, and the planets move slowly."

Ivy attempted a smile, but only managed a weak grimace.

"I guess you can't rush the planets."

Firenze continued to gaze at her, an indefinable sadness in his eyes.

"Be safe, Ivy Ollivander," he said backing toward the forest. "This centaur pledges a vigilant watch over you." He struck his chest with his right fist in a gesture that had grown comfortingly familiar. Then he was gone, and Ivy turned toward Hogsmeade. Usually she could see her house from the path, but tonight the fog had obscured it from view. She picked her way to the stream, choosing to cross closer to home than to maneuver through the underbrush to the bridge.

Hagrid always made crossing here look so easy. He could make it in one great step. Ivy had to walk close to the edge and leap, and she had yet to make it across without getting her feet wet. Tonight she chose wet feet so as to get home that much quicker. As she scrambled up the stream's opposite bank, she stole a glance at the sky.

"Mars and Saturn," she whispered, but there were no signs of stars or planets above her. Darkness had swallowed everything, and Ivy shuddered, wondering if that weren't an omen in itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wait, Hagrid, please. Explain this to me one more time. I don't understand." Ivy stood at her kitchen table, holding a plate full of crumpets.

Hagrid sat back in his chair, wondering once again why everything in the magical realm seemed to go beyond Ivy's understanding. She clung to the excuse that she had not been raised among European Magicals, but sometimes that explanation didn't hold.

"What part don' ya get? You-Know-Who is back. Harry said he seen 'im wi' his own two eyes the night a the third task. An' I believe 'im. A lotta wizards don't, but I'm doin' what I can to stop 'im before he gets 'is power back an' we're all in the same boat we were in 15 year ago."

"Voldemort's _back_? But I thought he was dead," Ivy murmured. "This changes everything."

"Yer catchin' on," Hagrid muttered, taking a sip of tea from a huge cup Ivy kept in her kitchen just for him.

"I gotta go do summat for Dumbledore, an' I came to ask ya to take care a Fang fer me while I'm away. He trusts yeh. Sometimes I think he likes yeh better'n me."

Ivy grinned, sitting down and pouring her own cup of tea. "Of course I'll keep Fang for you. But where are you going? Will you be gone long? You're not going after Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who, all alone, are you?"

Hagrid blinked and let a lung-full of air past his lips.

"Nobody'd go after 'im all by theirself. That'd be crazy. I seen Harry after he saw You-Know-Who. The little feller was broken ter pieces inside. Nope - I'm goin' in a differn't direction - to the giants up north. I'm hopin' to talk 'em into bein' on our side this time."

Ivy remained silent a little while longer. She didn't need to ask who's side they'd been on last time. That point had been advertised plainly in the _Daily Prophet _last Christmas. 

"How long will you be?"

"Don' know that fer sure. We gotta find out where they're hidin' firs'."

"We?" she asked feeling dull once again for being so full of questions. "Is Professor Dumbledore going with you?"

"Not Dumbledore," Hagrid said, adding a bit more cream to his tea and reaching for a crumpet.

"Olympe Maxime."

Ivy choked, sending a mouthful of tea across the table and into his face.

"Maxime?"

She stood to her feet, grabbing a towel off the counter and flinging it across the table. 

"And you want me to watch your dog while you go off with that... that...."

"It can't be helped, Ivy," Hagrid said as he dried off his cheeks. "We all hafta put our differences aside now an' do what needs ter be done ter stop You-Know-Who. _Before_ he gets 'is power back."

"But she...."

Hagrid held up both hands, one empty, one holding a brown-stained kitchen towel, in an attempt to stop Ivy's tirade.

"I know how you feel about Olympe, but I forgave 'er fer what happened at the Yule Ball. You should too."

"No, you don't know how I feel about _Olympe_," Ivy shook her head. "Her and that Skeeter woman did their best to ruin you last Christmas. She's... she's...." Ivy sat down heavily in her chair.

"I suppose whatever she is to me is my problem, not yours. Or Maxime's."

"Yer a good friend, Ivy," Hagrid reassured her, reaching across the table to cover her hands with his own.

She offered him a bitter little laugh. "Not really." 

"Yeh were there when I was low as I could get. I won't ferget that. Yeh tole me to be proud a who I am an' ferget about whoever don' like it."

His words hit Ivy like a slap in the face, as she realized she'd never practiced what she'd preached. The truth was that she'd never trusted _him_ enough to tell him all her secrets.

"I haven't been a good friend to you, Hagrid," she admitted, suddenly ready to come clean. "Friends trust each other with their secrets, but I...."

Hagrid leaned closer until his whiskery face was inches from hers.

"Don't ever tell me yeh hadn' been a friend."

Ivy had to ball her fists to keep from reaching out to him.

"I haven't told you everything," she murmured. "There are things about me that I hid, especially after what happened to you last winter. But it's summer now. And if you're leaving tomorrow .... With Maxime.... If Voldemort's back, Hagrid... it's time I was honest with you."

Hagrid's face split into a grin. "What terrible secret could you be hidin' from me?"

Ivy swallowed hard, but nothing could get past the constriction in her throat. "I'm... a Squib." She let the word she hated above all others cut into her soul, as punishment for keeping secrets from Hagrid.

"I have no magic. Not even a little. I cook my own food, light my own fires, make my own tea. I couldn't levitate your cup to the sink if I tried all day. What...?"

She leaned toward him to find out why his moustache was twitching madly.

"No magic?" he asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

"None. And you're laughing."

"I jus'.... Ter think yeh been afraid ta tell _me_ yeh ain't magic. Yeh think that matters ter me? I have ter have permission from Dumbledore ter use it myself." Her look made him sober up a little. "I don' mean ter laugh, Ivy. I swear. I jus' can't believe ya thought I'd be shallow as that."

"See," she insisted. "I told you I was a bad friend."

"Yeh got anymore terrible secrets unn'er yer hat?"

Ivy's face turned red. "You're going to forget the first one, just like that? I don't have one iota of magical power and I kept that secret from you for over three years. Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Yeh wan' me to get mad at ya? Wan' me ter think yer a terrible friend? Well, I can't," he wagged his head. "Yeh mean more ter me than that. If yeh felt yeh had ter hide it, yeh had yer reasons. I respec' that. Now maybe yeh better answer my question. What other deep dark secrets are yeh hidin'?" He took another sip of tea while he waited for her response.

"I killed my own mother."

This time it was Hagrid's tea that spewed across the kitchen table, splattering all over Ivy. She made no move to wipe it away.

"Tha's not what I heard," he finally managed. "Charlie Weasley tole me it was some kinda cancer or summat what got yer mum, back when he were here with the dragons."

"Charlie Weasley doesn't know everything," Ivy announced, tea dripping off her nose. 

Hagrid stood up, walked around the table and knelt on one knee in front of Ivy, reaching with his towel to dry off her face. "So how'd yeh off yer mum?"

"It was our last visit together." she began. She told him the entire story, start to finish, her voice finally trailing away as she noticed the sadness growing on Hagrid's face.

"Yeh been carryin' that 'round inside yeh all these years?" he asked. 

Ivy nodded solemnly.

"But yeh jus' tole me you're a Squib. I mean... yeh don' hear often a people killin' someone with words.... Even You-Know-Who had ter use a wand and a spell. Charlie said yer mum was sick," he shrugged. "I believe 'im."

Ivy remained in her place, her eyes locked on his. A glimmer of hope began to steal into her heart. "You believe Charlie? And you don't care if I'm...."

He held up a hand. "Don't say that word no more Ivy. It don' fit yeh. I seen yeh work magic more than once since yeh came ter Hogsmeade."

"One more secret," she blurted, grabbing onto his vest. Now that she'd begun telling, it was impossible to stop. "You can't go away on a dangerous mission with a beautiful woman without hearing the last one."

Hagrid studied her a moment. "Think I a'ready know this one, Ivy. An' I been a fool not ter take what yeh been offerin'."

"Only my heart," she managed a smile. "I love you, Rubeus Hagrid. And while you're off in exotic places with Olympe Maxime.... Don't forget me."

Hagrid's eyes got suddenly over-bright. When he blinked two fat tears escaped from behind his eyelids. He reached out to cradle her face in one giant hand.

"I tole you a long time ago I was stupid," he croaked. 

Ivy shook her head, and suddenly found herself enveloped in Hagrid's arms. He picked her up and stood to his feet, and finally Ivy was occupying the space she'd coveted for so long. She pressed her face into the wiry softness where his hair and beard met. Hagrid carried her into the sitting room and they sat down together in his over-sized chair.

"I also tole ya that I'm a bloody coward," he confessed as Ivy got comfortable in his lap. "An' it's true. When I see yeh, feels like it's me ridin' a hippogriff, only that look yeh gimme makes me feel like I decided ter jump off at 15 hun'nerd feet. Tha's why I stayed away, at first."

Ivy grinned. "I thought you avoided me because you figured out I wasn't magic. Then Maxime came along.... Hagrid... I don't want to lose you as a friend. I've tried not to be too pushy about how I feel. But I can't let you go away with her, not knowing...."

Hagrid gave her a laugh. "Olympe ain't fer me," he admitted. "A little too rich fer my blood, if yeh know what I mean. An' I never meant teh hurt yeh, Ivy. That I swear. Reckon I was only thinkin' 'bout myself."

Ivy leaned forward, her fingertips grazing his cheeks. "You can jump off the hippogriff, Hagrid. I promise to be here to catch you." 

He stared at her for a long, silent moment. Ivy watched as his fingers kneaded the arms of his chair. She could tell he was struggling with something, but she never got to hear what that struggle was about, for just as he opened his mouth, someone knocked on the front door. Hagrid had been so intent on Ivy that he jumped at the sound.

"It's alright," she murmured, patting his knee. "I'll get it." She slid off him and pulled open the door, blinking a moment in the summer sunshine. The guest before her was Albus Dumbledore. 

"Good afternoon, Ivy," he said, smiling. His robes rustled richly as he reached out to take her hand. "Good to see you, as always."

"Professor," Ivy started, turning to look back at Hagrid. "How nice of you to come by. Won't you come in? I don't believe I've had the honor - "

"The honor is mine," Dumbledore insisted, stepping over the threshold. "I only apologize for not visiting sooner, and for reasons less pressing."

"Hagrid was just telling me about... You-Know-Who's return," Ivy confessed, as she led him into her sitting room. "And his trip up north."

Professor Dumbledore observed a ruddy-faced, guilty-looking Hagrid over his half-moon spectacles. The Headmaster's moustache began to twitch.

"It seems I have intruded," he said, offering a half-bow in Hagrid's direction. "I would be happy to come back at a more convenient time."

"No need fer that, Perfessor," Hagrid said, rising to his feet. "I need ter be gettin' home anyway. Got to get packed 'fore mornin'." He made his way to the door, and then turned back to Ivy.

"Come by the cabin tonight an' I'll have Fang ready fer ya. There're some things he'll be needin' when I'm gone." He sniffed a little, then grasped the doorknob.

"You can stay, Hagrid," Ivy told him. "I'm sure that whatever Professor Dumbledore came to say, he wouldn't mind saying in front of you."

"Ivy's right, Hagrid," Dumbledore said. "I only came to ask a favor. This shouldn't take long."

"Nah, I best be goin'," Hagrid insisted. "There's some stuff I got ter take care of before I leave Hogwarts."

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Then I shall see you later on at the castle."

Hagrid returned his nod, then opened the door. Ivy followed him onto the porch.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" she asked.

"It's a'right, Ivy. You go back an' talk ter Dumbledore. Then come over to the hut. I'll cook us somethin' fer dinner."

Ivy flinched a little. "I would be... _more... _than happy to cook."

"I got it covered. Now go back in there before ya look like a lousy hostess."

Ivy grinned. "Alright, then. I'll see you tonight."

Hagrid surprised her by bending over to kiss her cheek right in front of the Headmaster. She closed her eyes as his warm breath trailed down her neck, giving her a shiver. Her hand drifted through his hair for a moment, then he turned and lumbered down the steps and out of the garden. She was watching him cross the street when a polite cough behind her brought her back to the realization that she still had a visitor. Her face flushed as she turned back to Professor Dumbledore.

"Sorry," she grinned, pulling the door shut behind her.

"No need to apologize," Dumbledore assured her.

"Hagrid and I were just having some tea. Would you care to -"

"My pleasure," he returned.

Ivy led him into the kitchen, where the chairs were still in disarray from Ivy's many confessions to Hagrid. She pushed them back into place and then reached out to check the warmth of the tea pot. A frown creased her brow as she realized it had gone cold.

"Allow me..." Professor Dumbledore said, as he raised his arms. Clapping his hands twice, he produced a sparkling silver tea service, complete with a plateful of fresh steaming crumpets, butter and peach preserves.

"Please accept this as a belated housewarming gift, my dear."

"Professor..." Ivy sputtered as she watched the tray land gently on her table. "You didn't have to -"

"Of course I didn't _have _to, Ivy. One of the benefits of age is that you never have to do things unless you actually want to."

Ivy laughed as she reached for the tea pot.

Dumbledore explained his visit as they settled in chairs facing each other. "I have, as I said, come to ask you a favor. Two, to be precise. The first one concerns the present, the second, the future. And the first demands an answer immediately, while the other can wait. At least a little while."

Ivy passed him the crumpets. "You know I'd do anything to help. If Voldemort is back.... You only have to name it."

Professor Dumbledore eyed her warily. "I can see that you have never been asked a favor of me before."

"I mean it," she insisted. "How can I help?"

"I want you to go to Surrey and keep an eye on Harry Potter this summer, while he stays with his aunt and uncle."

Ivy's eyes widened. Of all the things she could have come up with, this request had never entered her mind. 

"Me?" she questioned, setting down her tea cup. "You want me to keep an eye on... on..."

"On Harry Potter, yes, Ivy. It was my understanding that the two of you are acquainted."

"Sirius Black told you that, didn't he?"

"I make it a point to know who Harry spends his time with." Dumbledore smiled. "He trusts you, as do I. As far as I am concerned, you are the perfect choice. You'll fit into the Muggle world easily enough."

"This is just like when you asked Rose to watch over Remus Lupin." Ivy mused. "Only I'm not an animagus. I'm not even magic. What if something happens? If You-Know-Who -"

"Have you also gone to referring to Voldemort by that name?" he asked. "I myself find it a bit too... empowering. If he must not be named, it must be out of distaste, not out of fear."

"Well..." Ivy returned. "I just -"

Dumbledore raised a hand. "No need for explanations, my dear. I will let you consider while I present my other request."

If his first request had surprised Ivy, it was nothing compared to the shock that came with his second.

"As you know, this school year has ended. You also know it has been a year unlike any we've seen in a very long time. A lot of excitement, and much has been lost. And now it seems as though it's been too much for some to bear."

Ivy closed her eyes, remembering. The loss of Cedric Diggory still hung over everyone like heavy, snow-laden clouds. 

"I received notice yesterday from one of our teachers, Professor Pickett. She has chosen to retire from teaching. Graciously she has agreed to stay on through next year's term. And so.... I've come to offer you the position. As Professor of Muggle Studies. You can take your time thinking about it, as I would not need an answer till the end of next year. And hopefully," he leaned in her direction. "You will have figured out how to close your mouth again by that time." He reached across the table to push up on her chin, which had dropped dangerously close to the table at his request.

"I... I..." Ivy sputtered, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. "I thought you were going to ask for some help waiting tables for something special up at the castle. But this...." Her voice trailed away at the enormity of it all.

"Of course," Dumbledore continued. "Your position at Hogwarts would be announced to the wizarding community. You may want to consider if you are willing to inform your father, before you accept."

"My father?" Somehow he hadn't even remotely entered into either of the equations the Headmaster had presented. Until now.

"Wouldn't it be better if he heard the news from you, rather than from the _Daily Prophet_?"

Ivy suddenly found the patterns in the wood of her table quite interesting.

"I would be glad to accompany you to inform him, if it would mean securing your services." Dumbledore finished gently.

She looked up to study him with over-bright eyes. "So you want me to watch over Harry this summer, and next year...."

"Take over Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, yes. I seem to remember you saying you'd be willing to do anything to help our cause, at the beginning of this conversation." His moustache twitched again. "I should explain that this _is_ a dangerous mission. No one knows how intent Voldemort is to have another go at Harry. Perhaps he will show us a modicum of intelligence and leave the boy alone. Perhaps he will not. And then you could be put in harm's way."

"I wouldn't let him hurt Harry," Ivy insisted. "And I'm not afraid of him. Actually it might be nice to exact a little revenge of my own, since my father always said he sent me to the States to keep me safe from... You-Know-Who."

"A little bit of fear is not a bad thing, Ivy. As long as we don't allow it to turn into panic."

Ivy blushed.

"May I take that as a yes, my dear?"

"Yes, Professor. I'll go watch over Harry while he's with the Muggles. If you're sure..."

"I have been unsure about many things in my life, Ivy, but not this. Now... there a few details to take care of." He held up one hand and twisted a heavily worked emerald ring off his finger.

"I have created this especially for your mission," he explained, handing the ring over to Ivy. "Twisting it around your finger three times will Summon me, should you need me. Two twists will enable me to see and hear what's going on around you. You have but to hold the ring up for me to use it as a looking glass. And this..." he reached into the pockets of his robe. "Is the key to a house on Boxwood Drive, in Little Whinging. You will find that the back garden of this house connects to the back garden of Number 4 Privet Drive. You may or may not engage the Dursleys. I'll leave that to your discretion."

Ivy accepted a brass key from Dumbledore's hand, and he immediately rose to his feet.

"I hope you will accept my second request as readily as you've accepted the first," he smiled as he bowed before her. "And now I must take leave of this enchanting little cottage, although I hope to return to it soon." He looked around at Ivy's house, and then walked to the front door.

"You're sure this will work -" Ivy blurted as his hand grasped the doorknob.

"I'll hear no more of that sort of talk, Ms. Ollivander. I have the utmost faith in you. The train leaves for King's Cross tomorrow at 2PM. I have reserved you a cabin, and transportation from the train station in London will await, upon your arrival."

Ivy flashed him a grin. "You make it sound like I just won a dream vacation."

Dumbledore took one of her hands and patted it between both of his. "With your help, this could be a quick skirmish. We can put an end to You-Know-Who, and _all _enjoy a nice vacation."

Somehow he didn't sound very convincing.

"If your new piece of jewelry glows this evening, it is only me making sure that all is in working order. Now I must bid you good day." 

He strode across her porch, his high heeled boots making a confident smacking sound as he descended the steps.

"Thank you, Ivy," he turned to wave before walking up the path to the front gate. "We'll be talking again, soon."

She raised a hand, watching as he snapped his fingers over his head, and vanished before her eyes.

"Goodbye Professor," she whispered to the wind that whipped in the place where he'd been. "We'll talk again, soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	17. Another Ring

Ivy stood at her front gate, trying to decide which way to turn. As much as she'd promised to meet Hagrid for dinner, she also burned to tell Rose everything that had transpired in her kitchen. She glanced from the path across the street to the Three Broomsticks sign swaying in the breeze over the entrance to the pub.

Opening the gate, she made her decision, turning to run down High Street to Rosmerta's. She needed advice from her friend, and she needed it now.

She found Rosie polishing tables. The pub was deserted, except for Renfroe and his son Reginald. When Rose saw Ivy, her face lit up. She dropped her towel and met Ivy at the bar.

"So... are you going?"

"Don't tell me you've already heard," Ivy whined. 

"Professor Dumbledore came by to see if you were here. He asked if losing you this summer would cause a burden. I told him to take a look around, and he'd know the answer to that one." 

Ivy gave her a smile. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm going. To keep an eye on things for Dumbledore. Don't know why he picked me, but at least I know my way around Muggles."

Rose gave her a hug, smoothing a hand through her hair. It had a bad habit of tangling up since Ivy didn't bother to braid it anymore. "You'll do just fine."

"There's something else," Ivy said, grabbing her friend and pulling her to a table. As Rose sat down Ivy gave her a half-cursty and a grin. "I told Hagrid everything today. And he doesn't care."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "You told him...?" 

Ivy sat down and leaned across the table so she could whisper. "That I'm not magic, _and _that I love him."

"And he doesn't care?" 

"Rose!" Ivy protested. "He doesn't care about the magic, and he said he didn't believe I killed Mum."

"You gave him that story, too?"

"I told him everything. And I'm supposed to be over there right now. He's cooking us dinner."

"Ivy!" Rose grinned. "That _is_ good news. Well, except that Hagrid's cooking. I'm happy for you, love. But I'm going to miss you this summer."

"I'll miss you too, Rose. But this time I'm coming back in a few months. Not years."

"You'd better," Rose said.

"Oh, there's one more thing," Ivy remembered. "Dumbledore offered me a job at Hogwarts for the year after next. He wants me to teach Muggle Studies."

"And did you accept?"

"He said he'd wait for my answer. He also said I'd have to tell Father first, or he'd hear about it in the Daily Prophet."

Rose grimaced. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know!" Ivy admitted. "That's why I'm here. I need your advice. What would _you_ do if you were me?"

"First, I'd get myself over to Hagrid's. You'd rather have stoat sandwiches when they're fresh. Then I'd talk it over with him. But I wouldn't let a rift between you and your dad keep you from accepting the position. Make up with Augustus and take the job. I know you miss teaching."

"You make it sound so simple."

"_It is _simple, Ivy. Trust yourself. You can do it. But if we're talking about Hagrid's cooking, it's best if you hold your nose before you swallow."

Ivy laughed as Rose stood to her feet. 

"Go on, then. Get yourself up to Hogwarts. You don't want to keep the giant of your dreams waiting."

Rose embraced Ivy one more time, then sent her out the door toward Hagrid's hut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy walked up the street, past the train station and through the winged-boar gates of Hogwarts. The castle looked different this time, and as she walked past it, she wondered what it might be like to actually work there. To walk its halls because she belonged. The thought made a shiver of delight course through her. Rosie was right, she did miss teaching. 

Shaking her head to reign her imagination back in, she knocked on Hagrid's front door, peering into a window when he didn't answer right away. The place looked a bit more disheveled than usual. Through the glass she could see boxes and crates stacked on the floor, with clothing and papers and miscellaneous junk poking out in all directions. Another jumble was scattered across the table. Frowning, Ivy pounded on the door one more time. She could hear Hagrid singing inside, and the aroma wafting past the door was rather pleasant. Now if she could only get him to let her inside.

"Hagrid!" She rapped at the window, and that seemed to get his attention. His face lit up when he saw her, and he turned from his stewpot to open the door.

"There yeh are, Ivy," he grinned, standing aside so she could come in. "Ever'thing's jus' about ready."

"Is this how you pack for a trip?" she asked, surveying the mess.

"Nah," he grinned. "I had ter find summat before I could leave."

"And did you...?"

"I'll get ter that later," he smirked, wrapping his hands around a stack of papers on the table. He dropped them into a nearby trunk, causing a cloud of dust.

"Then can I help with this... stuff?"

"Sure yeh can. Just chunk it all over there in the trunk. I'll sort it out later."

Ivy walked around the mess on the table. "This is some collection." Her fingers trailed over a shield of hammered steel that sported a golden griffon on the front. When she tried to lift it from its place against a chair, it nearly tipped her over.

"That belonged ter one a my relatives on my mum's side," Hagrid explained, lifting it up with one hand and setting it against the back door. "Gorloff the Great."

"Really?" Ivy bent to examine the trinkets on the table more closely. There was an oil lamp that reminded her of the one that housed Aladdin's genie, and a handful of coins who's likeness and monetary value were unfamiliar. Several partially rolled up parchments revealed coastlines Ivy was sure she'd never seen.

"Leave them maps," Hagrid instructed. "I'm takin' 'em wi' me."

Ivy nodded, grinning when her eyes lit on a miniature tableau that rested in the center of the table. She reached for it, picking it up and cradling it in her hands.

"I remember this," she murmured, her fingers trailing across its pieces. "_Estonehenge_."

"Dance of The Giants," Hagrid corrected. "I like that name better."

That was the title engraved in gold at the base of the tiny replica. She liked to think it was one of the things that had helped pull Hagrid out of a deep depression after Rita Skeeter's horrible lies about him had appeared in the Daily Prophet. 

She set the replica of Stonehenge on a shelf, then turned around, just in time to catch Hagrid openly watching her, his beetle black eyes shining bright. She crossed to the table and pushed out a chair, climbing up to stand in its seat so she could look him in the eye. There were so many thoughts and emotions coursing through her, but when she looked at him she found she couldn't say a word. As they studied each other, she realized she didn't have to. Everything she wanted to tell him was written in her eyes. Hagrid finally dropped his gaze and turned, picking up a box he'd set on the mantle.

"This is fer you, Ivy," he said in a voice that was full of emotion. "It belonged to my mum."

She opened the box, lifting up a well worn piece of oiled parchment to reveal a heavy gold bracelet. Ivy put the box on the table, pulling the bracelet out and weighing it in her hand. There was something engraved on it, inside and out, in a language Ivy couldn't interpret. She was about to slip it on her arm when Hagrid stopped her. He took the bracelet in his own hand, pressing it briefly to his lips, then he slipped it over her fist.

"It's a perfect fit," she announced, holding it up so she could examine it more closely.

"My dad gave it to my mum the day they got married," Hagrid went on, eyes losing their focus for a few seconds. "That's what this mess is about. I wanted ter find it before I went away."

"It's not just a bracelet is it?" Ivy murmured, realization of what the piece of jewelry on her arm really was flooding over her.

Hagrid shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "It's a... I mean... it was her..."

"Wedding ring?" Ivy's voice dropped to a whisper, but she had no trouble being heard in the silence that hung between them.

This time Hagrid nodded.

"She left it when she left us. My dad gave it ter me. Said I'd fin' somebody special someday ter give it to. Reckon I have. That is... if yeh'll agree ter wear it."

Ivy laughed out loud, tears spilling from her eyes and splashing down her cheeks even as she gave him her brightest smile. "Course I'll wear it," she said, leaning forward in her chair to kiss him. As their lips met Ivy's nose wrinkled. The smell of burning stew began to fill the little cottage.

"Dinner's burnin'," Hagrid turned to tend to the stewpot, but Ivy grabbed his collar and pulled him back. 

"I've waited a very long time for this," she stated. "Just one more..."

Hagrid gave her an all-too-familiar grunt from the back of his throat and swept her up into his arms, his mouth descending on hers with relish. Then he planted more kisses on her jaw-line and neck, his moustache tickling as she buried her face in his hair. The look Hagrid gave her as she slid, weak-kneed, into her chair, challenged Ivy to ever again question his ability or desire to leave her breathless. 

"Think I can save it," he said, reaching for an enormous set of potholders and pulling the stewpot out of the fire. He bent to retrieve a pan of golden brown biscuits from his stove, then ladled out two bowls of stew. Fang rose from his place by the back door as the aroma from the pot filled the cabin. He padded across the room to sit at Ivy's feet, turning a pleading gaze in her direction.

"Oh... you're good," Ivy told him, fishing what looked to be a chicken's foot out of her bowl. She slipped it to the dog while Hagrid prepared them something to drink. 

"Whadd'ya think eh the stew?" Hagrid asked, but Ivy couldn't answer. She was too busy downing a biscuit in hopes of putting out the fire suddenly alight in her mouth. She grabbed a goblet of gillywater out of his hands and took a gulp.

"Spicy," was the only word she could manage. Fortunately her mouth went numb after the third bite, and she managed to finish what was left in her bowl. When she looked down, Fang was gone, resuming his place by the door. The fowl foot lay untouched just under the table. Taking a napkin, she bent to scoop it up before Hagrid noticed.

  
"Thought yeh liked yer food on the spicy side, after that mess yeh cooked down the pub last summer."

Ivy made a face. "You hated that stuff," she reminded.

"Reckon I thought yeh were tryin' ter poison me, after the way I treated yeh New Year's Eve."

"You did sort of walk out on me that night...."

"That were yer fault," he insisted, leaning over to gather up the dirty dishes. "Yeh were tryin' ter put me unn'er some kind a spell. Wha' was I surposed ter do? Let yeh get away wi' it?" 

Ivy grinned as she got up to help him wash the dishes. They stood side by side, shoulder to elbow. Hagrid washed while Ivy rinsed and dried.

After they'd set the kitchen to rights, they retreated to Hagrid's back stoop, enjoying each other's company while the evening sky darkened. Ivy spotted the very first star of the night and blew it a kiss.

"Wha's that about?" Hagrid asked, sitting down on the next-to-the-last stair. Ivy sat beside him on the top stair, so their conversation could continue face to face. 

"Ermm," Ivy began, flashing him a sheepish grin. "That's the one I used to wish on. But I won't have to do that any more. My wish came true."

"Wha'd yeh wish for?" 

Ivy studied her boots for a minute, then looked him in the eye. "I wished for you."

A long silence fell between them then, until Hagrid released a sigh, reaching over to catch her left arm. Ivy scooted closer so he could examine the gold band he'd slid over her wrist.

"What does it say?" she ventured quietly.

Hagrid gave a little laugh that bordered on sadness, but his grip on her hand tightened as he traced the runes on the ring with one great fingertip.

"It says 'Love Conquers All', in the language of the giants."

"You don't sound like you're convinced," Ivy said.

"It di'n't work fer my mum an' dad. Maybe I shouldn't a give it to yeh. Don' wanna jinx anythin'."

"Hagrid..." Ivy scolded. "I want you to give it to me because you believe what it says. Love conquers all. I mean.... It conquered hippogriff rides and dementors. It conquered the Vampire's Kiss."

"An' Rita Skeeter," Hagrid added to the list. "An' Olympe Maxime. It woulda conquered Buckbeak's execution, but the little bugger got away."

Ivy had to laugh. "Yes. Thank goodness Buckbeak got away." Her eyes widened as she remembered something else.

"It conquered the 'S' word."

Hagrid gave her a funny look.

"You know... the 'S' word. The one you told me not to use to describe my... lack of magical ability." She leaned over to whisper the word in his ear.

Hagrid grunted and pulled her into his arms, shaking a giant finger in her face. "_Never_ say that word again. Not where I can hear. I _know_ yeh got power. The power ter make my heart beat all funny. The power ter make me ferget ever'thin' I was thinkin'. The power ter get me runnin' in circles tryin' ter fin' that ring."

Ivy giggled, but the sound was cut short as his whiskery face came down on her own.

She clung to him fiercely, answering his kisses with a passion all her own. Tears pierced the back of her eyelids as one thick finger traced the line of her jaw, then slid gently down her neck. As his fingers lost themselves in her hair, she realized that in a matter of hours they would be going separate ways for the summer. She would have given anything to remain forever, right where she was.

Reclining in Hagrid's arms, Ivy once again turned a dreamy glance up toward the stars.

"Do you know which one of them is Saturn?" she asked, pointing toward the sky. "Mars is the red one... I think. It's just... there."

"Dunno, Ivy. Yeh'd have ter ask the centaurs."

She sat up, grinning. "It was Firenze who told me about the planets. He said that only star shine twinkles. Planets shine steady, and bright. And he told me that when Mars and Saturn align, soul mates have found each other. He said there'd be a big, bright light up in the sky."

Hagrid shook his head. "Don' see anythin' differ'nt than usual."

Ivy's brow furrowed. "But I thought..."

"Centaurs talk in riddles near as much as the Sphinx, Ivy. Yeh can't go by wha' they say."

Ivy tried to smile. "You're right. He must have been wrong. Because we're... we're soul mates and we've definitely found each other, haven't we?"

Hagrid nodded solemnly, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Reckon we have."

Ivy stood to her feet in an attempt to push away the feeling of foreboding that had crept into her soul. Hagrid was right about centaurs. They always spoke in riddles. And even Firenze himself had told her that some of the mysteries of the heavens concerned them, while others did not. She must have taken his announcement about Mars and Saturn farther than it had been meant to go. 

"It's getting late," she said. "Are you all packed?" Before he could answer she had her hand on the back door latch. "I can help you clean up before you leave. You wouldn't want to come home to a messy house."

Hagrid heaved himself to his feet, and Ivy's fears were dispersed as she felt his heavy hand fall on her shoulder.

Ivy turned to face him, back against the door. She swallowed hard past the lump that rose in her throat. 

"Won't be long, and you'll be home, and I'll be back in Hogsmeade. Just a couple months. It'll go by fast. Won't it?"

Hagrid didn't answer. He seemed content to tower over her, to study her face with a dreamy expression in his eyes that Ivy'd seen before. He'd had that look when he stood beside Olympe Maxime in Rose's pub. It surfaced every time he mentioned his hatchling dragon, Norbert. But now it was meant for Ivy alone, and she pinched herself, just to be sure she wasn't dreaming.

Hagrid lowered his head and kissed her, only this time Ivy sensed a difference. This time his mouth came down on hers to possess it. This time his tongue made promises that left Ivy breathlessly demanding he keep them. Her hands caught fistfuls of his shirtsleeves and she rose up on tiptoes, struggling for a vantage point that was higher and closer. Finally, in answer to her soft whine of frustration, the half-giant picked her up and held her in his arms like a child.

"When, Ivy?" Hagrid asked hoarsely. "When yeh wanna do this?"

The hands that had previously busied themselves exploring the tangles of his hair dropped to her lap, and she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Do what?" she managed, suddenly trembling.

"I wan' yeh ter marry me," he reminded. "Tha's why I gave yeh Mum's ring."

The harder Ivy struggled to speak, the more words eluded her. When it became obvious that she didn't have an answer, Hagrid spoke again, in a deep, husky voice. 

"Yeh knew that when yeh took it, didn' yeh?"

She nodded, slowly recovering as she realized that what she'd thought he'd been pressing for and what he'd really meant were not the same.

"Sum... sum.... Summer..." she faltered. "Summer is always a nice time for... weddings. We could get married in the pumpkin patch." 

"It'd have ter wait till fall, then. Tha's when the punkin patch is prettiest."

Ivy shuddered, realizing that if she didn't stop pinching herself soon, she'd be covered with bruises. 

"Fall, then," she managed a smile. "Next fall, when the leaves start turning. Maybe... October?"

"But I met yeh in June."

That brought a gasp of surprise from Ivy.

"You remember?"

"How could I ferget I... I... Ivy?"

He leaned down to set her back on her feet. For a moment she clung to him, like a child not quite ready to leave a parent's arms, then her feet reluctantly met the wood of Hagrid's back step.

"I love you, Hagrid," she murmured. Just for good measure, she tweaked a place on her forearm, as for the very first time, he returned the endearment.

"I love you, too."

Ivy ducked her head to save Hagrid from seeing the grimace of pain that gripped her features. That last pinch would most definitely leave its mark by morning. 

"An' I wish it was you goin' wi' me, instead of Maxime."

Ivy grinned. "You know Maxime will be far more persuasive with giants."

"Maybe wi' them." Hagrid's eyes sparkled.

"You're not making this any easier, you know." She reached for the door handle. "And we still have packing to do. Didn't you tell me the Beauxbatons carriage is leaving at dawn?"

"It'll wait."

He scooped her up in his arms again and pulled open the door, crossing the threshold to close it behind him with a kick of one massive boot. Looking around the cabin, it became evident that there was only one logical place for him to set her down amidst the jumble and clutter. Anticipation and not a little fear swept through her, turning her blood to fire, then ice, as he looked across the room to his bed. He stepped over a trunk and a crate full of Fang's stuffed critters, then sat down on the patchwork quilt. Ivy found herself in his lap, straddling his knees. Staring into a face that had become so much a part of her being that she ached for him. 

Hagrid's hands had always fascinated Ivy. She loved nothing more that to watch them swallow up her own, or lean into their embrace as he cradled her head in his palm. But as she leaned against him, and those huge hands began to make her his own, Ivy fell even farther under their spell. She pulled his left hand into her lap, pressing both of her hands into the cup of his palm, feeling the hard calluses, the quiet strength. Knowing that these were the only hands she ever wanted touching her body. She brought the hand she was holding up to her lips, planting kisses on each knuckle, each fingertip, until Hagrid shuddered, cupping her chin in his palm and bringing her face to his. 

"Ivy," Hagrid whispered.

"Hagrid," she returned.

Their lips met with bruising passion, as Ivy fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, to feel his heart beat under her hands, to explore the parts of him she'd never seen. She'd managed to undo four big brown buttons and was plunging her arms inside the fabric, pressing her cheek against the warmth of his chest, when she heard faint voices from somewhere outside. They got louder even as she struggled to ignore them, preferring to press her lips against the soft patch of gray in the center of his chest. Her head rose and fell ever so gently with the rhythm of his quickening heartbeat, as her hands slid up and over his shoulders. 

One of Hagrid's hands slipped down her back, his fingers kneading her skin, gently, at first. His grip strengthened as the front door exploded with a frantic pounding of more than one fist. A soft groan of disappointment escaped Ivy's lips as the thumb of his other hand smoothed over the fabric of her blouse. 

She pressed her forehead against him for one last moment, as she recognized the voices.

"It's Harry," she said. "And Ron Weasley." 

Hagrid shook himself and Ivy watched as a bit of the glazed look left his eyes. 

"I hear Hermione, too," Ivy spoke with a ragged sigh of regret. She reached out with trembling fingers to smooth the line where his beard sprouted on his cheek. "They've come to see you off properly. They're leaving, too, this afternoon."

Blinking a few times, he set Ivy on her feet. Then he stood up and re-buttoned, shaking himself as he lumbered to the door. A torrent of voices and bodies tumbled inside as it opened, their rush only stopped by Hagrid's great frame.

"We thought we'd missed you," Ron said, steadying himself on Hagrid's arm.

"You said the Beauxbatons carriage leaves at dawn, and it's not where it was..." added Hermione, who threw her arms around him as far as they could go.

"We didn't want to leave without saying goodbye." This last came from Harry, who stood silhouetted in the doorway. Ivy was surprised to see how much the sky had lightened. 

"Hey, Ivy," Harry added, stepping over the threshold.

"Harry," she returned, hoping that the dim light of daybreak was sufficient to hide the furious blush creeping along her cheekbones.

Harry looked different from when they'd first met on the back steps of the Three Broomsticks. He stood taller, and thinner, but that was not the only visible difference. His boyish grin had faded, and the mischievous light had gone out of his eyes. Ivy's first impulse was to rush over and pull him into her arms, but she held back. 

The room had gone decidedly quiet when the younger set realized that Hagrid was not alone in his cottage. Hermione took a few steps around the room, surveyed the mess, then looked up at Hagrid.

"Did you find the... ummm... _thing_ you were looking for?" she asked, glancing in Ivy's direction.

Hagrid nodded, closing the front door and crossing the room to stand at Ivy's side. He took her left hand in his right, raising it up so they could see the gold band decorating Ivy's wrist.

"What thing?" Ron asked, pulling out a chair. He turned to sit down, but stopped as the collection on the table grabbed his attention.

"Summat that belonged to my mum," Hagrid said softly, and for the first time Ivy realized that she was not the only person he'd miss when he left Hogwarts.

"That's it?" Harry asked, as Hermione pushed past them to make a pot of tea.

A smile managed to find its way to Harry's face as Hagrid nodded and threw him a wink.

"Hold on," Ron complained, letting a handful of foreign coins trickle through his fingers. He looked from Hagrid to Ivy. "Would somebody like to fill me in? What's going on around here?" 

"Hagrid gave Ivy a ring," Hermione explained matter-of-factly.

"Took you long enough," Harry added. He stacked some papers and sat down across the table from Ron.

"Dumbledore asked Ivy ter teach Muggle Studies year after next, too. We're gettin' married nex' October."

"Or June," Ivy reminded, reaching out to grasp his hand.

"You mean..." Ron sputtered. "You..." he pointed to Ivy. "And you..." his finger wagged toward Hagrid. "Together. You're...."

Hermione slammed a tea cup down in front of him and Ivy was sure she heard the word "rude" come out of the younger girl's mouth.

Hagrid sighed heavily and wrapped him hands around his belt. "Since yer all here, now, maybe yeh can help me straighten up this mess b'fore I go."

"Good idea," Ron muttered as Hermione crossed the room to congratulate Hagrid and Ivy.

In no time at all, various items began floating through the air in different directions. Hagrid gave the orders as to what went where, and soon three trunks were full to overflowing. One Hagrid would take with him on his trip, one would be packed away, and the last held everything that Hagrid thought Fang would need while he spent the summer with Ivy.

"Yeh got his piller an' 'is toys. An' there's a recipe for rock cakes in there, too. Yeh can play 'im a song on this flute if he gets ter pinin' fer me.

Ivy's brow furrowed as she accepted the wooden instrument. "You're not taking your flute?"

"Fang'll need it more'n me."

"But I don't play...."

"It's a magic flute, Ivy," Hagrid told her. "Yeh jus' put yer lips to it an' blow."

"Hagrid," Harry spoke up. He pointed out the window. "Professor Dumbledore's coming. With Madam Maxime."

Ivy felt her heart constrict in her chest as she reached for Hagrid's arm. She stared at him, wide-eyed at the realization that it was time for him to go.

"We'll get the door," Hermione said, pushing Ron forward. He was still staring from Ivy to Hagrid, hard put to believe they were together.

"Now who's being rude?" he managed, startled by Hermione's sudden move.

"Me?" she muttered. "Rude? The least you could do is remember to close your mouth when you stare."

"I don't think they noticed," Ron said, reaching to open the door. Hermione nodded, pulling a handkerchief out of the sleeve of her robe.

"Oh, not already," Ron complained. He and Hermione greeted Maxime and Dumbledore while Hagrid, Ivy and Harry each struggled with their own goodbyes.

"Don' think I can do this," Hagrid muttered. He nodded briefly to Professor Dumbledore, then turned to take Fang's trunk. Shouldering open the back door, he set the trunk on the step, pulling out a massive hanky of his own. Seeing him wiping his eyes made Ivy tear up as well. She turned to speak to Professor Dumbledore and found that she could not. All the words in her heart couldn't seem to make it past the lump in her throat.

"Ah... Ms Ollivander. I thought I might find you here," the headmaster began. "You've met the Beauxbatons Headmistress, have you not?"

The giantess standing in front of her began to swim a little as Ivy's legs turned to rubber. A strange vibrating hum had taken over her ears. To her own amazement, she actually managed a lame sort of curtsy in Maxime's direction.

"Zo zis is zee leetle one who has stolen Hagrid's heart?" Maxime purred. Her cheerfulness seemed out of place, until Ivy remembered that the giantess was heading home. It made sense that she'd be glad to get the trip under way.

"I will take exzellent care of him," Maxime promised, smiling. She took Ivy's hand in her own, patting it gently. Ivy allowed this for a moment, staring openly at the jewels on Maxime's oversized hands. Then she pulled away. There was only one set of giant hands she wanted embracing her own. She glanced around the room for Hagrid and found him kneeling in front of the fireplace, his boarhound's head on one knee.

"Yeh be good fer Ivy," Hagrid told Fang, ruffling the top of his head. "I don' want no letters sayin' yeh bin a bad dog."

"He'll be great," Ivy assured him, reaching out to rest her hand on his own. "But I'll write you letters anyway."

"Yeh better." Hagrid informed, standing to his feet. "All a yeh. I'm 'spectin' letters from all a yeh this summer. An' don' go lettin' that cousin a yers get yeh down, Harry. Summer'll be over quick as a wink. An' yeh might have a little extra company in Surrey this year."

Professor Dumbledore stepped forward then. "I know that goodbyes are never easy, but it is time for the Beauxbaton carriage to depart. Hagrid... if you please."

Hagrid heaved a great sigh and beckoned his three young friends forward. "Reckon it's time ter go."

The rest of his departure was a blur to Ivy, except for his last, bone crushing embrace. He held her so tight that her feet lifted off the ground. But Ivy didn't notice. She was too busy trying to memorize the scratchy-soft feel of his moustache on her face and the tender promise on his lips as one more time they took possession of her own. 

"I'll be back ter make yeh mine, Ivy Ollivander," he told her, poking his index finger into her chest and giving a watery grin. "Take care a yerself. An' Harry."

"I will." Ivy nodded, and then reached behind her neck, unfastening the hippogriff necklace he'd given her on her first Christmas at Hogsmeade. "Take this with you," she said, standing on tiptoes to slip it into the pocket over his heart. "To remind you that I love you."

He covered his heart, the necklace and her hand with a hand of his own. "Yeh think I'll ferget that?" Dropping her hand, he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "An' I won't ferget where we were before the kids came over, either. I expect ter pick up right there when I get back." 

She laughed, enjoying the soft caress of his moustache on her earlobe.

"Promise?" she teased him.

"I swear," came his husky-voiced reply. 

Giving her a wink, he turned to load his trunk onto the carriage. Then he put one hand on the front wheel, turning to look at them all one more time. Harry, Ron and Hermione surged forward and Hagrid dropped to one knee to embrace all three of them at once.

"Don' ferget what I said about letters," he commanded, wiping away the tears that formed at the corners of his eyes. "I'll be home b'fore yeh get back."

He mounted the carriage, sitting up front, where the driver would have been, had the Beauxbatons carriage needed a driver. He gave them a wave as the carriage lurched forward, pulled by Maxime's massive flying horses, and Ivy loved him all the more for not climbing in beside the giantess.

A chorus of "byes" followed the carriage as the horses lifted it off the ground and away from the castle. Then Hagrid was gone. Ivy looked around, suddenly feeling alone and out of place. She had yet to pack for her own trip, and the sun warming the back of her neck reminded her that she didn't have much time. 

She lifted a hand toward Harry and the others, and then turned toward Hogsmeade, this time choosing to skirt Hagrid's hut and follow the path through the woods.

"Come on Fang," she called out to the boarhound, who was walking across the grounds, head down and just as dejected as she was. His tail wagged half-heartedly as he changed directions to follow her toward the hut. She picked out his pillow and the flute, pocketed the recipe for rock cakes, then pushed the trunk back inside. Hagrid had packed it so full that it was impossible for her to carry everything back to Hogsmeade. 

Alone inside, Ivy found herself drawn to the familiar surroundings. Her hands caressed the wooden chairs. Her fingertips grazed the top of the freshly scrubbed table. The tea pot had been put back in its cupboard, and the fireplace was growing cold, but Hagrid's essence still lingered. Sitting down on his bed, Ivy pulled back the patchwork quilt and buried her face in his pillow. Stretching out, she pulled the other pillow close and embraced it, but no matter how hard she tried to pretend it was Hagrid, her imagined companion fell far short of the real thing. 

Sitting up, she looked around for some little trinket to take with her. Something she could hold close, through all the nights she'd spend alone. His pillow was too big, although she was drawn to its softness and scent. He'd taken his crossbow, and his moleskin overcoat was too heavy to drag around all summer. Finally her eyes fell upon a nightshirt hanging on a hook by his headboard. She reached for it, bunching it up and bringing it to her face. It still smelled like Hagrid. A slow smile spread across her face. This was exactly what she'd been looking for.

Fang whined at the bedside, and Ivy patted the spot beside her, inviting him up. The two of them stretched out, promptly falling asleep there, and the sun rode high in the sky before they woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh! Fang," Ivy whined, jumping to her feet. Someone was at the door, and she could hear the whistle of the Hogwarts' Express announcing its departure any minute.

"We're going to miss the train!"

She flung open the door, just as surprised to see Madam Rosmerta in Hagrid's front step as Rose was to see her.

"Good," Rose exclaimed. "Then you _are_ here. I couldn't find you anywhere." She took in her friend's sleepy appearance, the nightshirt still wrapped possessively in her arms, and gave Ivy an appraising look. 

"Up all night, were you?" she asked slyly as she pushed a suitcase into Ivy's hands.

"Yes," Ivy retorted. "But not for what you think." Her face betrayed her by turning crimson as she remembered how close she and Hagrid had gotten to what Rose was probably thinking.

Rose grinned as she surveyed Ivy with raised eyebrows. "Maybe next time," she grinned, grabbing Ivy's hand and dragging her toward the train station. "Right now you've got about five minutes before that train leaves."

"You packed for me?" Ivy wondered out loud. 

"Good thing I did," Rose countered as they began to run. "It'd take days to get to Surrey from here on that motor scooter of yours."

Ivy laughed. Being dragged about by her best friend helped to dissipate some of the sadness of being separated from Hagrid.

"Good luck, and be careful," Rose said, as they arrived at the station. Most of the students from Hogwarts had already boarded. Pushing Ivy into the first car, Rosie handed her two tickets. One was for her trip to King's Cross Station, the other to change trains in London for one going to Surrey. 

"How'll I find Little Whinging?" Ivy asked from the door. 

"Dumbledore's got a cab waiting for you in Surrey. It'll take you straight to the house he rented. Write as soon as you get there! He said there's an owl in the attic..."

The train lurched to life, and suddenly Ivy was moving away from Rosmerta, Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. 

"Fang!" she hollered. The dog ran forward and leapt onto the train, nearly toppling Ivy. 

"Love you, Rosie!" Ivy called as she regained her balance. She hung out the doorway, waving madly to her friend, as the train began to pick up speed. Ivy could hear the subdued chattering of childish voices from farther down the car.

"Well," she murmured to Fang. "That's it then. We're off to Surrey for the summer." The boarhound whined, ill at ease with the rocking motion of the train. 

"All right. Come sit with me." Ivy patted the plush seat beside her. Fang scrambled onto the seat and curled up beside Ivy. Together they watched Hogsmeade get smaller and smaller. Fang whined again, and Ivy stroked his head. 

"I know exactly how you feel," she whispered. "But we'll be home soon." And at that moment she couldn't decide which place she'd rather call home; her ivy covered house in Hogsmeade, or her place in Hagrid's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	18. 47 Boxwood Drive

It was while she was getting directions to the train bound for Surrey that Ivy encountered Harry Potter.

"Hey, Harry," she smiled as he pushed his trunk-laden trolley up the platform. He stopped at the sound of her voice.

"Ivy...." he ventured. "What.... What are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to go to Little Whinging for a while," she began, and then she groaned in disbelief. This was not the way she'd meant to make her presence known to the boy.

"He must really think I've cracked then. Sending in a babysitter...."

"Not a babysitter, Harry," Ivy explained apologetically. "I've been thinking this over all the way from Hogsmeade. Professor Dumbledore knows I have no magic, so he couldn't have sent me here to protect you from anything. He knows you've been through some very hard times this year, and I think he wanted you to have a safe place to go, if life with your aunt and uncle gets unbearable. So you don't feel like you have to run away again. A... comfort zone, if you know what I mean."

"Like your basement in Hogsmeade?" Harry said, nearly managing a smile.

"Exactly," Ivy replied.

"Nobody knows how bad it is, Ivy, having to live with those Muggles. If it's anything like last summer.... Sometimes I'd rather run away. Even if it meant I could never go back to Hogwarts. You just can't imagine -" Harry stopped. He'd paled considerably by the time Ivy figured out what had caught his gaze.

"There's the fat whale, now," Harry muttered. His grip on the luggage trolley tightened so that his knuckles turned white.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, reaching for Hedwig's cage. "You take her. Then at least one of us won't have to spend the whole summer under lock and key." He thrust the owl's cage into Ivy's arms, then spun her around so that the fast approaching Vernon Dursley wouldn't notice.

Ivy gave his hand a quick squeeze. "We'll see you in a bit," she promised. Harry stole a look at her from underneath the hair that kept wanting to fall into his eyes. Then he was gone, pushing his luggage forward so that Dursley wouldn't come too close.

"Fang!" Ivy hissed at the dog, who was gazing longingly at Harry's disappearing form. "You stay right here with me. We'll see Harry soon." Fang whined, but sat obediently as Ivy's feet. When Ivy felt it was safe, she turned toward the train bound for Surrey, trying to look as normal as possible with a caged owl in her arms and a boarhound at her heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Hagrid,

We made it to Little Whinging today. It's a very boring little Muggle suburb. Not a vegetable patch as far as the eye can see. Now I know why Harry hates it here. Fang is doing fine. As soon as this letter is off I'm going to make him some rock cakes. I think he misses you. And so do I. Have you started north yet? Will it take very long to find the giants? Maxime hasn't tried making any moves on you has she? She'd better keep those big-boned hands to herself. Even a person with no magical abilities can pull off a Perennial Pain Potion, if coached by just the right young wizard. (Only joking, though I happen to know that Hermione Granger would help me if I asked her.)

Never forget who loves you,

Ivy

Rolling her letter up, she gave it to the little screech owl Professor Dumbledore left in the attic on Boxwood Drive. Hedwig had offered, but Ivy thought it was best for her to wait until after dark to do any flying, at first. Opening the window, she released the owl, and then glanced down at Fang.

"Come on," she said, patting his head. "Let's go see what else Professor Dumbledore left us. I saw a bag of lemon drops on the kitchen table." She closed the window, then opened Hedwig's cage. "The attic's yours, girl," she murmured. Hedwig hooted softly, and then climbed to the top of her cage. "I'll be back to let you outside in a bit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

We are heddin north to Greenland as I write this letter. Sorry bout Little Whinging. I been there a few times, myself. Didn't much care for the place. Maxime's behavin so far. I would tell her about the Pain Potion, but she's too busy complainin bout everthing. We brung along a man whats supposed ter no where the giants ar hidin. His name is Olaf. He said we'd see wild Hippogriffs once we get ter the foothills. I'm thinkin maybe I could swipe me an egg or 2 from one a there nests. What do ya think? Wanna help me raise a hatchling hippogriff?

I love you too,

Hagrid

PS: tell Fang ter behave. I'll be home soon.

Ivy giggled as she read over Hagrid's letter. "An egg or two," she told Fang, who thumped his tail happily. "He'll bring home the whole nest if he can get away with it. Come on. Let's go see if Harry's outside. Maybe it's time for us to meet the Muggles." She tucked the letter in her pocket. "I mean... the Dursleys." 

They pushed open the back door. Ivy could see most of the Dursley's back garden from the top step. Since moving in she'd seen nothing of Harry, but this morning she thought she'd spied him working in a rose bed. Motioning to Fang, she crossed the lawn, pretending to examine the hedge that grew along the property line. Almost immediately she saw Harry round the corner of the house, pushing a wheelbarrow full of dirt.

"Hello!" Ivy called out, reaching high over her head and waving. Harry dropped the handles of the wheelbarrow and it tipped over, spilling most of the dirt out onto the lawn. He'd just bent down to scoop it up when his back door slammed. Ivy's eyes widened as the fattest boy she'd ever seen approached Harry.

He jabbed at Harry with a fist, speaking through clenched teeth, but Ivy heard every word. "You'd better clean that up quick, worm, before Father sees what you've done. Matter of fact... I think Mum should know -"

She cut him off from across the hedge. 

"That was all my fault!" she hollered brightly. "I was only trying to meet my new neighbors. I think I frightened your little brother, there." She broadened her vowel sounds, affecting as an American accent as she could remember.

"Him?" Dudley Dursley shuddered. "He's not my brother." He leaned over Harry. "He's a freak."

The huge boy straightened up and put on a leering grin. He sauntered over to the hedge, eyeing Ivy up and down.

"Did you say 'new neighbor'?" he asked in an oily voice, reaching across the hedge to shake Ivy's hand.

"Umm," Ivy studied his hand for a moment, then gingerly grasped his fingertips, shook them, and pulled her hand back across the hedge. "Yes. Just moved in. I've relocated from the States. Ivy Ollivander." She gave him a quick smile, then leaned over so she could see around Dudley to check on Harry.

"Who's this then?" she pointed at Harry, who was staring at her, open-mouthed. 

"A cousin," Dudley smirked, giving Harry a wave from his place at the hedge. The branch he was leaning on broke just then. Dudley lost his balance and fell into the prickly holly leaves.

"Ow!" he shouted, attempting to stand to his feet. Ivy saw the opportunity she'd need to get into the Dursley's good graces. Pushing up her sleeves, and throwing Harry a grimace, she bent over the hedge, reaching as far as she could to help Dudley up before he hurt himself.

By this time Petunia Dursley had noticed that her son was no longer in front of his Playstation. She'd come outside to investigate, just in time to see a pretty young woman push through her back hedge to grab Dudley.

"What on earth?" she managed, pushing past Harry. "What are you doing to my son?" 

Ivy brushed the prickly holly leaves off her arms, taking note of the criss-crossing bloody scratches, before she answered.

"This handsome young man is your son?" Ivy asked, narrowing her eyes in Harry's direction. He was doubled over, snickering.

The tall, dangerously thin woman rounded on him, viciously. "Don't you dare laugh at my Duddumms, you weak little -"

Ivy coughed. She didn't want to hear fat Dudley's mother call Harry any names. 

"I tried to help," she purred. "Your son here was being quite the gentleman, introducing himself to a lonely new neighbor. I'm Ivy Ollivander, by the way. Just moved into the neighborhood from the States. And you are?"

Petunia turned an appraising gaze on Ivy, then turned back to her son. "Petunia Dursley," she said through the thinnest lips Ivy'd ever seen. "Are you sure you're alright, Duddy, sweet?"

"Yes," Dudley insisted, cutting his eyes toward Ivy. At once she was reminded of Zachary Zonko. "Take a minute and say hello to our new neighbor, Mother." He nodded his head in Ivy's direction, waggling his eyebrows. "She was kind enough to help me when I slipped on the hedge."

Ivy took a very American stance, holding out her hand to shake Petunia's. The older woman held back, until her son stomped his foot and flashed his eyes. Reluctantly, Mrs. Dursley shook Ivy Ollivander's hand.

"Welcome to the neighborhood," she spoke, flatly.

"Yeah," Dudley chimed in. "Mum and Dad will have to have you over for tea sometime. Mum makes out-of-this-world crumpets, don't you, Mum?"

Petunia stared openly at her son. "Whatever you say, love. Now. I really must get back inside. Someone tracked dirty footprints in on my clean kitchen floor." She threw the word 'Someone' viciously at Harry.

"Well, it was nice to meet you," Ivy said throwing out a hip and giving Dudley a big grin.

"And you," Petunia offered grudgingly. 

"Mum," Dudley chided Petunia, waggling his eyebrows again. "My father's name is Vernon," he finished the introductions. "Now why don't you go inside and make Ms. Ollivander a nice Yorkshire pudding? She probably hasn't had much chance to eat British food."

"Oh no, really," Ivy smiled, waving a hand. "Don't go to any trouble for me." She bent over to pat Fang on the head. 

"This is my boarhound, by the way. His name is Fang, but he's harmless, really. I'm sure we'll all get along well, as soon as we get to know each other." She reached across the hedge and patted Dudley's fat pink hand, grinning broadly.

"Wait a minute," she stopped, as if suddenly remembering something. "I never caught his name, the boy over there in the dirt."

"Harry Potter," Petunia spat, with as much distaste as she could muster. "My nephew. He lives here with us in the summer. During the school year he goes to St. Brutus'."

"Oh... my... _goodness_," Ivy exclaimed, suddenly inspired as a crazy scheme birthed itself in her head. "I've heard so many stories about that place! I used to work with children with discipline problems." She took a deep breath, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "That is until they shut me down. Can I help it if the crew I hired got a little 'carried away' with their correctional procedures? I mean, how could I have possibly known that _some _parents no longer consider public flogging a proper form of punishment?"

She gasped, looking over at Petunia for her reaction. "Oh my dear, I've said too much. I am sorry, Mrs. Dursley. Please. Don't let me keep you from your wonderful young son." Turning as if to go back inside, Ivy motioned to Fang.

"Wait!" Petunia called from the hedge. "You... you worked at a school for children with disciplinary problems?"

Ivy feigned embarrassment. "Oh, Mrs. Dursley. Surely you don't want to hear any more about that. Young boys can be... umm... shall we say, challenging, at times? I merely attempted to found a school in the States where people with _those_ kinds of problems could come for help. Strictly as a service to my community. But they didn't see the wisdom." 

She punctuated the conversation with a few loud sniffles at this point. "But..." she let out a deep sigh of longing. "Maybe someday my dream will flourish again. In a place where I can be appreciated. And if young Harry there gives you any problems over the summer, you can feel free to send him my way. I've brought some of my um... _tools_... with me, if you know what I mean." She smirked.

"Handcuffs, a bullwhip, those kinds of things. I'd be happy to help."

Petunia's gaze suddenly got more friendly. She actually managed to smile for the briefest of moments.

"Oh, and I also have a few... shall I say... _nasty_ messes that I'm cleaning up after the last renter. Slugs in the basement, rats in the attic, that sort of thing. Good character building jobs for troubled young men." She threw a look at Harry, who was staring at her as though he'd never seen her before.

"Well," Ivy finished. "I really have kept you kind people far too long. I need to get back to unpacking. It was terribly nice to meet you."

But Petunia Dursley knew a soul-mate when she saw one. (Or at least she thought she did.) She gave Ivy a most gracious smile, then turned to grasp Harry by the shoulders.

"Slug problem, did you say?" she nearly tripped over herself pushing Harry toward the hedge. "In the basement?"

Ivy nodded. "I've put down repellent, but well... they leave such a mess. Very slimy. I still don't know exactly how to clean it up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I still don't know exactly how to clean it up...." Harry doubled over in a fit of laughter as he and Ivy let the door slam between them and the Dursleys.

"Hey..." Ivy protested his impression of her performance. "I know I didn't wiggle that much. And you'd better at least wait till we're properly inside before you laugh so loud. They're going to hear."

"Nah," Harry grinned, wiping a tear from his eye. "Dumbledore sound-proofed this place. And there's a password to get in. I... found a letter in my trunk when I started unpacking. He explained everything."

"A password? But I've been running in and out for nearly a week now."

"_You_ don't have to have the password. Just outsiders. The door will stay mysteriously locked without it. Muggles'll think they have the wrong key."

Ivy's eyes widened. "Interesting." She was about to ask him what else the house could do, when he ducked behind the edge of a curtain that decorated the sitting room window.

"What is it?" Ivy asked, leaning over to get a better view of Boxwood Avenue.

"Nothing," Harry shrugged, pushing the curtain back into place. "I just thought I saw someone."

"Who?"

"That guy in the uniform across the street. He looks a little like Peter Pettigrew."

Ivy raised her eyebrows, pushing the curtain back further so she could see who he meant.

"That man _is_ strange," she admitted. "He says he's going 'round the neighborhood making sure everyone's telly license is in order. I told him I hadn't unpacked my TV. Telly. Whatever. He didn't look like he believed me. Then I said he could come back when everything was unpacked if he wanted to inspect the place. He wouldn't come in."

"Or couldn't," Harry scowled. "We better tell Dumbledore. He didn't have a silver hand, did he?"

"A silver hand?" Ivy asked, shaking her head. "No. Well... he had gloves. Yes, I remember now. He had white gloves on, but I might have seen a flash of silver on his arm. I thought it was... you know... jewelry of some sort."

"Voldemort gave Pettigrew a silver hand to replace the one he sacrificed for him," Harry muttered. Ivy saw him shiver at the memory. "That's probably what you saw."

Ivy sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Peter Pettigrew. Right at my front door. Well, maybe he'll come back in a few days. I could invite him in and then lock him in the basement. And get him to confess to framing Sirius! He might even tell us where You-Know-Who's hiding...."

"You'd only blow your cover," Harry warned her. "Don't underestimate Wormtail, Ivy. If he can't get himself out of trouble, his Master will. Always. He's a _very_ loyal servant."

Ivy felt a shiver of her own. "I guess you're right then, we'd better tell Dumbledore." She held up her hand, turning her emerald ring around twice. Immediately the stone glowed a bright neon green. When Ivy peered closely, she could see Albus Dumbledore in the face of the ring. For some reason he was making over exaggerated motions with his mouth, and pointing to the side of his head.

"I think he wants you to use that butterfly thingy you have in your hair," Harry observed.

Ivy scowled. "That's just a barrette I found on the table beside the lemon drops he left me." 

"Just try it," Harry insisted, bending over to peer more closely at Dumbledore's likeness in the ring. 

Pulling the butterfly out of her hair, Ivy turned the barrette over. A tiny piece of parchment was stuck to it.

"That _wasn't_ there before," she insisted. Pulling it off, she read it's inscription. 

"Say the word 'Activate'," she read out loud.

She followed Dumbledore's instructions. Immediately she could hear his voice amplified from the butterfly hair pin.

"Very well done, Ms. Ollivander. Congratulations. You win this round of charades. Now, what was so important that it couldn't wait till after my pedicure?"

Ivy spoke loudly into the ring. "Sorry to bother you, Professor. But Harry and I think we've spotted Peter Pettigrew snooping around for Voldemort."

The ring-Dumbledore covered his ears. "Ivy! Ivy... there is no need to shout. I can hear you perfectly. Even at a whisper." He whispered the last lines, just to convince her, then he continued.

"Peter Pettigrew is in Little Whinging?"

"Yes," Ivy replied, in a normal voice. 

"And Harry recognized him?"

"I did, Professor," Harry chimed in. "He's pretending to be some kind of signal inspector, I think. Ivy's already talked to him. He couldn't get into her house."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I will inform the others. And congratulations on getting Harry away from the Dursley's, Ivy. I didn't expect you to be successful at that quite this soon."

"Thanks, Professor," Ivy beamed. "It was... fun."

"And do I detect a certain accent?" The Headmaster continued.

"Well..." Ivy blushed. "I thought it might help make me more interesting to Muggles. I wanted them to like me."

"And have you accomplished that feat?"

Ivy laughed. "I think I may have."

"How on earth did you manage that in a week?"

"Long story, Professor. Let's just say that Dudley's growing interest in girls helped."

"Not to mention Ivy's wiggle," Harry called out.

"Harry!" Ivy protested, waving a hand at him. Only it was her ring hand. When she looked down at Dumbledore again he was holding on to the setting for dear life.

"Sorry," Ivy mumbled.

"Not to worry, my dear. You must promise to tell me the whole sordid tale when you get home." He looked a little green, but Ivy couldn't tell if it was his complexion or a tint from the ring's eerie glow.

"We promise," she said.

"We will be in contact soon," Dumbledore assured her. "For now, keep out of Pettigrew's way. No heroics. Understood? And I'm talking to both of you."

"No heroics," Ivy told him.

"We understand," said Harry.

"Very good then. I'll be signing off." Then he was gone, and the ring went back to it's original emerald color. The room lost its ethereal glow.

Ivy looked at Harry. "Well, would you like to go look at slug trails in the basement, or have some tea and rocks cakes? I followed Hagrid's recipe...."

Harry let out a laugh, and soon both of them were nearly hysterical. 

"Peter Pettigrew was at my _house_, Harry," Ivy giggled.

"And you made _Hagrid's_ rock cakes. And did some kind of voodoo on Dudley's raging hormones."

"I did no such thing."

Harry grinned and reached across the table. "Give me a rock cake. I miss Hagrid too."

Fang's tail thumped at their antics from across the room, so Harry grabbed two rock cakes, tossing one of them to the boarhound. He yelped a little when it hit him in the ribs.

"Thanks, Ivy," he muttered past his cake.

"For what?" she grinned. She was wisely soaking hers in a cup of tea.

"For coming to Surrey for the summer."

"Not a problem, Harry," Ivy assured him. "Not a problem."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Hagrid,

I think you'd better be careful. Robbing a hippogriff nest sounds very dangerous. But I'd love to spend the rest of my life raising them with you. It's been two weeks, now, and I'm really getting homesick. And not just for Hogsmeade. I've been thinking about the teaching job at Hogwarts. Maybe when Harry's safely back in school I should go see my father. Tell him everything. What do you think?

Oh! I almost forgot. Did you find any giants yet? I hope your mission goes well. Fang and I are enjoying your letters, and the rock cakes baked up just like you make them at home. I miss you, Hagrid. Can't wait to see you again.

Love forever,

Ivy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Ivy Ollivander,

It is our regret to inform you that there has been a complaint about recent real estate transaction #18947095748 lodged in our offices by one Zillius Zonko and his son Zachary. They contend that you defrauded them out of one two-bedroom home in Hogsmeade, claiming you were Magical at time of purchase. We are currently looking into the appropriate zoning laws in Hogsmeade, which is, as you know, an exclusively magical community. Please fill out these forms in triplicate and send them back to our offices. It may also be in your best interest to hire a barrister of your own.

Regards,

Logapiller, Logapillar, Humphrey, Baggette and Bone

"We're Wizards at Real Estate Law"

Ivy's hands trembled as she read and re-read the letter that threatened to break her heart. Things had been going well in Little Whining. She even had an invitation to tea at the Dursley's for next Sunday afternoon. She'd been working on a plan that could possibly deliver Harry into her care every summer from now until he was old enough to legally take care of himself. But suddenly, with the opening of one very official-looking letter, everything had changed. Even if she did talk the Dursleys into giving her Harry for the next few summers (strictly for disciplinary observation), by the look of things, she wouldn't have a home to take him to.

Her blood ran cold when she remembered her basement. If anyone happened down there and found the secret passageway to Hogwarts, she'd be in even more trouble. And if Sirius happened to be down there.... She shuddered to think that that might even happen.

Pulling out some parchment, she began to write some letters of her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	19. Muggle Matters

Dear Ivy,

I can't believe the Zonkos are tryin to take back yer house. I wrote a note to Arthur Weasley. He's in Muggle Artifacts at the Ministry, an he may be able to help ya. 

We finely found the hippogriff herd Olaf's bin talkin bout all summer. They were the prettiest critters I ever saw, next to Norbert an Buckbeak. How I wish you coulda seen em. They brot tears to my eyes. Maxime din't like em so much. Scared they'd fly over us and mess up her hair. It's too bad all the little ones have alreddy hatched. An Maxime won't here a me try to catch us a hatchling.

PS: Dont worry bout yer house. We wont let em take it. And if they do, we'll jus get married early, and you can move in wi' me.

All my love,

Hagrid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

Don't worry about the basement, Remus and I went and made sure everything is OK. The secret passage is hidden so well I don't know if we will even be able to find it again. I can't tell you how upset I am about all of this. Zonko won't show his face near the pub, and it's best that he doesn't. What a weasel! (And I don't think his father has anything to do with this.) Or his brother. Zeke already approached me on it. Said he had no problem with you owning the house, but Zack knows you won't go public, because of your father.

Keep your chin up! We'll figure out a way to make this work.

Love,

Rosmerta

~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

Just wanted you to know that I've contacted Blackie and warned him about your basement. He says he's not planning on visiting Hogsmeade anytime soon, so at least that's taken care of. And Rose and I hid the secret tunnel. I've met with Dumbledore on this, he's looking into it. (I think he may meet with the Zonkos, to try and reason with them.)

Hope my next letter has good news.

Take care!

Remus

~~~~~~~~~

Ivy sorted through the letters on her table. Everyone who had written had told her not worry, but she found it hard to do as her friends advised. As it was, she was due at the Dursley's any minute, and she was in no mood for the performance _that_ would require. She'd been working on them from across the fence since the day they'd met, planting seeds in their heads that she was on their side, commiserating with their 'problem': Harry Potter. She spent hours coming up with ridiculous torments for the boy. Plotting more and more gruesome tasks so that Vernon and Petunia would absolutely grovel at her feet to take their charge. She hated how they took satisfaction in the fact that he'd be miserable. Her only consolation was knowing that the Dursleys were being outwitted.

"Not that it takes a genius to accomplish that," she muttered, grabbing a short leather quirt and heading out the back door. Fang lay in the grass, sunning near the pumpkin patch Ivy and Harry had planted. The new growth waved at her in the summer breeze, tender and green. Ivy sighed. The only reason they'd planted it was to ease her ache for Hagrid. In reality it was too late in the season for pumpkins, so they'd chosen the shadiest part of the garden, in hopes that the plants would not wither in the sun. 

Ivy was nearly to the place in the hedge where Vernon had overseen Harry's removal of a section of privet. He'd decided, upon scrutiny of Ivy's slight form, that she'd be better off using a path through the hedge than driving her motor scooter all the way around the block. Ivy hadn't argued. In her mind it only brought her that much closer to Harry, who in turn brought her that much closer to the memory of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, and Hagrid. 

Something in the shadows stopped her in her tracks. Or rather, the something that stopped her _was_ a shadow. A black, shaggy shadow whose form she knew by heart. She took a step or two backwards, landing abruptly on a concrete garden bench.

"Blackie...?" she murmured, barely able to speak. The shadow stood to its feet and lumbered in her direction. 

"It _is_ you," she said as the dog's forelegs landed in her lap. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing hard. "I've missed you," she crooned softly. "You always know just when to show up." Then she heaved a sigh. They would all be waiting at the house across the garden. Petunia would show her through her obsessively clean house, and Dudley would make sure his chair was as close to hers as possible. Vernon would just steal leering glances at her from over his tea cup. Ivy shuddered. 

"Hideous," she whispered. Blackie whined in her ear. 

"Not you," she managed to smile. "Those Dursleys. I have to go meet them for tea. It's become a weekend tradition. And it better pay off." 

She pushed Blackie's paws off her knees and stood up, wanting more than anything to stay home with him, rather than spend her time at #4 Privet Drive. For Harry's sake she dusted off her jeans and walked through the gap in the hedge, promising Blackie she'd be back as soon as she could. At least knowing he was there would make her afternoon more bearable. She looked back fondly at him, standing poised to knock at the Dursley's back door. 

"See you soon, Blackie," she muttered. Porky Dudley Dursley was swinging the door open even as she raised the quirt to knock. Ivy gasped at how close she'd come to hitting him across the face.

"Oh... Dudley I am _so_ sorry," she said, stepping into the house. She caught Harry's eye for a second, then cut her eyes toward the back door. Recovering from the shock of nearly bloodying Dudley's nose, she managed a wide grin.

"Found another dog today," she announced cheerily, slapping the quirt against her right leg. "No doubt a stray." Not waiting for Dudley to lead the way, she pushed past him into the kitchen. "He's big. And black. And wonderfully shaggy. You'll have to help me bathe and de-flea him tomorrow, Harry."

Harry groaned, turning away from them to stare out the window. Ivy could only imagine the smile that spread across his face at knowing Sirius Black was in town. She'd definitely have to come up with some revolting reason to get him back over to her house. The sooner, the better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You take your tea with lemon, if I remember?" Petunia Dursley crooned. Although her voice sounded silky enough, the look of distaste on her long, pinched features was downright comical. Ivy shrugged apologetically.

"Just one of those American habits," she said. "But I don't mind taking cream and sugar, if you'd rather. Either way is -"

"Please, Ms. Ollivander," Vernon Dursley purred, in an I'm-in-charge-here kind of voice. "We bought a bit of lemon just because we knew you were joining us today. It was Dudley's idea."

Ivy (ever so grudgingly) turned her gaze on Dudley, hoping she looked as doe-eyed as the situation demanded. "You are a dear," she told him, batting an eyelash. "Then bring on the lemon," she announced to Petunia, who got teary-eyed as she saw her son swell with every compliment.

"Of course," Petunia, managed a quick little smile, then passed Ivy her tea. "Have you heard from your school board in the States?"

Ivy tried not to choke on her tea. She couldn't afford to forget the details of the story she'd been feeding them. 

"I wrote, yes," she managed. "They sent me back a form letter. They won't agree to fund any of my research until I have at least one student ready to enroll in my school. And I have to have some progress to report. You know. Be able to prove my methods. They set so much stock on past achievements. It's ridiculous, really. You'd think they'd understand that we all learn from our mistakes, and allow people to move on. They are psychologists, and all. Although, between you and me and a fence pole, I still believe strongly in the old punishments. I mean... _behavioral modification_. You have to break them, then re-make them, I always say!" She finished with gusto, ducking her head at the last minute so she'd appear modest.

"Sorry," she whispered, glancing up at them. "Didn't mean to go on." 

"Such a pity," Petunia Dursley sighed.

"Pity... yes. Why in my day, if a boy so much as appeared to be out of the ordinary..." Ivy tuned out Vernon Dursley's monologue. In her mind she conjured up magical torments for the immense, neck-less man. Harry'd already told her about Fred and George Weasley slipping Dudley a Ton-Tongue Toffee. Ivy thought a nice Incendio to the ends of Vernon's droopy moustache would do nicely. Later on, she, Harry and Sirius argued it back and forth across Ivy's kitchen table.

"An Epoximise would have stuck him to the chair for a while," Ivy continued. "I almost saw his moustache smoldering while I imagined the Incendio. I wouldn't bother with a Stupify, though. It's just bounce right off."

Harry snickered, nearly spewing butterbeer across the table. "No need for a Take Root spell either," he agreed. "Sometimes I think Dobby's come in and already done that one on Dudley. There are days he never leaves the couch."

"That boy," Ivy muttered. "He gives me the shivers." Then she turned her attention to Sirius. 

"Are you here because we saw Wormtail, or because of the Zonkos and my house?"

Sirius grinned. "It's always all about you, isn't it? Maybe I dropped in because I thought you needed some butterbeer. Or to make sure the Dursleys hadn't figured you out."

"Ivy's got them eating out of her hand," Harry said proudly. "They talk about her like she's a ruddy saint."

"Harry!" Ivy chided. "Watch your language. And I'm not a saint. I just try to think like a normal person, then do the opposite. Vernon Dursley makes my skin crawl."

"He thinks you're cute as a button. He told Dudley about the birds and the bees, last Monday. All because of you."

Ivy shuddered. "I hope Dumbledore gets us out of here, soon...."

Looking over at Sirius, she grinned. "Is that really why you came? To bring us butterbeer?"

Sirius studied her for a moment, then turned to look at Harry. Being with them felt good, and he'd long since forgotten about trying to wipe the smile off his face. "Maybe I missed you. Both. And maybe... just maybe I'm here to make sure Pettigrew isn't in the neighborhood. Or maybe I discovered that this is where the action is this summer. Wouldn't want to miss out on all this Muggle-baiting you two are imagining. "

"But neither one of us can do any magic, can we?" Ivy asked innocently. 

"It's a good thing," Sirius agreed. "Creating a nuclear waste dump in a suburb of Surrey probably wouldn't sit well with the Ministry."

"Nuclear waste..." Ivy spoke dreamily. "There's something we haven't thought of Harry."

Ivy's musing were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. She grabbed the receiver, listening to Petunia Dursley on the other end.

"I'll send him on home, then Petunia," Ivy answered. "No... he's been no trouble. Seems to have a way with fleas, actually. He may come home with a few bites on his arms. Should I hose him off before I send him your way?"

A loud noise sounded over the receiver, and Ivy pulled the phone away from her ear. "Oh no...." Ivy protested. "I'd feel very responsible if he had to sleep outside with the dogs all night. Besides, my little babies sleep in the basement."

There was a pause as Petunia contemplated what to do with a flea-infested Harry Potter.

"He's welcome to the basement," Ivy broke in. "I think I have an extra rug he can sleep on. Oh.... I see. That does complicate things somewhat. No.... No, please, Mrs. Dursley. I'm sure I can find something for Potter to do while you and Vernon take a holiday. Yes, you did tell me about that. A week in Salisbury. Sounds positively enchanting. Yes, I'm sure little Dudley needs some time away. You are NOT imposing on our friendship. I may even get to experiment a little... you know, for my research. Yes!"

She rolled her eyes at Harry and Sirius while Petunia chattered on the other end.

"Alright then, it's settled. I'll send Harry over for some of his things in the morning. You take your time in the countryside. Take as long as you need. By the time you get back I'll have a file folder filled with experiments on behavior modification. Yes! May even help me get back my certification. Alright, then. I'll see you later. Yes, of course. Bye-bye!"

She hung up the phone. "Looks like you owe me big time Potter," she announced. "Your Aunt and Uncle have decided to move their vacation up a week. They may even stay gone this week and next. I made all the arrangements so you can stay here."

That was when Ivy realized the wisdom of Professor Dumbledore sound-proofing the house on Boxwood Drive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

We're meetin with the leaders of the giant clan tomorrow mornin. We found some a there group at ar last stop yesterday afternoon. One of em tole me he heard a my mum. He reckons shes still alive and livin in the mountains. I'll find that out tomorrow, too.

How's everything with you an Harry? I hope yer punkin patch makes it throu the summer. I left some garden imps behind to take care a mine. Hope they do there job. 

I will close this letter hopin to see you soon. Its bin too long, an I'm tired of tryin' to remember how it felt to hold you in my arms. I'm comin home quik as I can. Maxime can keep up or get lef behind. 

See you soon,

Love, Hagrid

"This one's going under my pillow," Ivy whispered, after reading Hagrid's latest letter. She tucked the parchment into her pocket, and turned to head up the stairs.

"Any interesting mail?" Sirius asked, looking up from the newspaper. "Thought I saw a foreign-looking owl just fly past the window."

Ivy blushed, bounding up the stairs before he caught the grin on her face and started asking questions.

"Must be from Hagrid," Harry explained. "I just got one, myself." He waved a piece of parchment at Sirius. "Says they'll meet with the giants, tomorrow. Judging from that owl, I'd say 'tomorrow' was a few days ago. Hope it went alright."

"Me too," Sirius agreed, putting the paper aside to stand to his feet. "Think I should go check on...?" He tilted his head toward where Ivy'd disappeared.

"Won't do any good," Harry replied. "It's always the same when she gets a letter from him. She shuts herself up in her room for a while, then comes down, sighs a lot, stares into space...."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

"I was only thinking.... It's such a glorious day. And we're all here together. That may not happen again for a while. Especially when school starts. We really should do something special... but I can't think of -"

Harry cut him off. "We could go to Diagon Alley. I haven't gotten my book list yet for 5th year, but we could still...."

"Ivy's afraid of running into her father there, though," Sirius remembered. "I could go in dog form, but I was hoping to avoid that. It's just not the same."

"I wish we could go to Greenland," came Ivy's voice from the stairwell. "Hagrid said there are wild hippogriffs roaming 'round free there. He wanted to catch a hatchling, but Maxime wouldn't hear of it." She sat down on the top step, sighing wistfully.

"You _have_ got it bad, Ivy," Sirius teased her. "I was thinking we'd have to go somewhere remote, but not quite _that _far away."

"At least _you_ wouldn't be noticed there," she retorted with a grin. "I don't think there's anywhere we can go, really. We're fugitives. Well... at least you and I are. Harry here is completely free to do as he pleases for once."

Harry grinned, heading for the door. "Can I use the scooter then, Ivy?" he joked.

"No!" came Ivy and Sirius' simultaneous reply.

"Looks like we're stuck here, then," he returned. "But that's not such a terrible thing. I kind of enjoy it. Here we are actually being normal. No painting and re-painting the garden bench.... No weeding those stupid flower beds. No Dudley, Petunia, or Vernon. Yup," he took a seat on the couch and flung his feet over the arm. "Feels like heaven to me."

"Looks like we're stuck with The Game," Ivy agreed, descending the stairs and taking a side of the love seat.

"Oh no..." Sirius moaned. "Not that again."

"It'll be fun," she assured him.

"When are you going to get tired of that game?"

"Oh come on," Ivy said, patting the seat beside her. "It's just so... versatile. We play it one way _here_. Play it the other way _there_.... Alright Harry. You go first, but you can't say something you've used in the past four games."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then grinned. "I know.... Quidditch."

"Harry," Ivy whined. "I just got through saying you can't use something you've said in the past four games. You say 'Quidditch' every time."

"Well, you say 'Hagrid'. Give her a minute, Sirius. You'll see. She'll squeeze him in there somewhere."

Sirius smiled. "That's love, Harry. You love Quidditch. Ivy loves -"

"Hagrid, I know."

"I did not say 'Hagrid', and we have rules," Ivy insisted. "Besides it's Sirius's turn. What do you miss most about the magical realm?"

He crossed the room and took the seat beside Ivy. "I miss the basement at Ivy's house."

Harry sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "But this is the Muggle version of Ivy's basement. It's practically the same, just less cobwebs."

"And telephones," Sirius reminded. "And that god-awful box over there," he pointed to the television set. "And motor cars, aeroplanes, heliocopters overhead. There's so much noise here. I don't see how they stand it."

"You're playing it wrong," Ivy murmured, watching as he grasped her wrist, his fingers tracing over the runes on the giant-sized ring Ivy wore as a bracelet. "We tell what we miss most, not what we hate most. I hate fluorescent lighting. And canned soup and brooms that were made strictly for sweeping. But I love the blue jeans Dumbledore bought me, and I think Fang is learning to like packaged kibble. The name of the game is...."

Sirius allowed her to go on, soaking in the lilt in her voice and the way her hair shone under the hated fluorescents. He glanced momentarily at Harry, struck yet again at how the boy looked achingly like his father. A sense of belonging flooded him as he sat surrounded by the ones he considered family. He basked in it, closing his eyes. Ivy and Harry watched a slow smile spread across his face, and continued their game around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dearest Ivy Ollivander,

We regret to inform you that, after having reviewed the zoning laws in aforementioned Hogsmeade, our clients have every right in demanding their property back. Neither of the Zonkos wants to go down in history as the one who let a Non-Magical into the community. There is only one legal form of appeal, to take your case to the zoning board, and hence the people of said Hogsmeade. This would of course, bring with it the threat of publicity, which our client has informed us you desire to avoid. Please let us know how you wish to proceed. We need to know if you intend to contest this decision no later than August 31st.

Thank you for your speedy response.

Logapillar, Logapiller, Humphrey, Baggette and Bone

"We're Wizards At Real Estate Law."

Ivy crumbled parchment under her hand with a frustrated groan. 

"Alright there, Ivy?" Harry asked through a mouthful of pancakes and sausage.

Ivy shook her head, throwing the letter across the table. "They're actually going to get the house back."

"How's that?" Sirius asked, flattening the letter to take a closer look.

"It's either give it back or go before the whole ruddy town. And Rita Skeeter. Or somebody else just like her."

"But you said you were going to go talk to your dad anyway," Harry reminded. "Talk to him first. Then give the Zonkos the surprise of their lives." 

Ivy sighed. "You make it sound so easy. I just don't think I'm ready to face him, yet."

"You're never ready for things like this, Ivy. You just have to do it," Sirius said.

"But I don't want to."

"Me either," Harry agreed. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia get in today. I sure don't want to leave."

"Today?" Ivy sat up and leaned across the table. "How'd time get past us so quick? I was supposed to experiment on you."

Harry smirked. "You'd better get to your homework then. Or all those times you sat close to Dudley will get us nothing."

"_Us_ being the key word here. I think _you_ should help me write up some sort of report or something. Sirius can help. What kinds of terrible torture did we subject Harry to over the past two weeks, and how did he respond? I think the threat of boiling oil afforded the greatest response. Spending the night in the basement only helped him bond with Fang."

Sirius looked at Ivy as though she'd lost her mind.

"Well... over the past two weeks, what have you observed?" Ivy pressed, grinning.

"I think the worst was the night I had to sleep standing up in the attic closet. Took more than a day to recover from that."

"Good one," Ivy agreed. "We'd better get to writing this down." She reached for parchment and quill.

"Wait!" Harry grabbed her arm. "Not parchment! Paper. Use paper and a pen."

"You two really are prime for the loony bin. You know that don't you?" Sirius asked.

"You won't say that when they sign Harry over to me next summer. And the summer after next. All in the name of perfecting Behavioral Modification," Ivy sighed in satisfaction. "It's just too bad I have to continue my research in the States. No Duddums next summer, Harry. How _will_ you cope?"

"It's a hair-brained scheme," Sirius observed. "They wouldn't be as stupid as that, would they?"

Harry smirked. "That's the beauty of it, Sirius. All the while we're working so hard to out-wit them, they're thinking they're being really smart to out-wit us. To dump me on Ivy for the next few summers."

"Then Harry gets _me_," Ivy flashed an evil grin. "The mad scientist of Behavioral Modification. Everybody wins." She scribbled quietly for a while, stopping every now and then to chew thoughtfully on the end of her ink pen. 

"Have you forgotten that if the Zonkos get the house, you'll have no place to put Harry next summer?" Sirius ventured quietly.

Ivy turned to stare at him, paling a little. "Then I may not be able to put off that visit home to Father."


	20. The Planets Move Slowly

"Have you heard anything from Hagrid lately?" Ivy asked Harry through the privet hedge. She was on her side, weeding the pumpkin patch. He was on his side painting a new garden bench.

"Not since that letter about meeting up with the giants."

Ivy heard the weariness in his voice. Their first month in Little Whinging had gone smashingly, but the Dursleys had seen fit to rein Harry back in when they came home from vacation. Every time Ivy peeked out the back window she saw him busy with one project or another. She hoped fervently that her 'report' on disciplinary experiments hadn't only served to make his life more miserable than ever. 

"I haven't either. And I'm getting worried. I used to get two or three a week. Now it's been two weeks with nothing."

"Ivy," Harry interrupted. "I think I know why the Muggles have gotten so hard to live with."

"Why?" she whispered through the hedge. 

"Well, first, Dudley found a girlfriend." Ivy gave him a look that distinctly questioned how that could be a bad thing.

"Second, I think either Professor Dumbledore or the Weasleys might have tried to talk to them. About me spending the rest of the summer with Ron at the Burrow. They're not sure what to do next. They don't want Dumbledore finding out about you, and your experiments. They're afraid he'd turn them into toads."

"They'd deserve it, Harry."

"Well, maybe you should tell Professor Dumbledore our plan. Or mention something about having to go back to the States early. You know, force them to decide if they'll put me in your program or not."

Ivy sighed. "I can do both of those things, if it'll get you out of there."

"I knew you would." He paused. "This has been the best summer. For me at least. I wanted to tell you that, just in case they won't sign me over _or_ let me go to the Burrow. Things could get very bad then, and well... I've already made up my mind. I'm not staying."

"You don't think they'd try some of my experiments on you, for real...?" Ivy wondered. "I could never live with that. I didn't even think it might go that way. Just made up stupid, evil, horrible things. And then put them in the hands of stupid, evil horrible people. Harry.... What was I thinking?" 

"Don't know," Harry mumbled, dripping paint on the grass so he could bend over for a better look at Ivy.

"First thing," she told him. "I'll go talk to the Dursleys. It's killing me to think they might try some of my experiments out on you. I'll come up with something to get you out of there. Promise. If not... I'd better run away with you."

She stood up, dusting off her knees.

"Good luck," Harry managed a grin, thoroughly wrenching Ivy's heart. "Sounds like you're going to need it."

Ivy marched across the Dursley's garden, intent on their back door, her eyes wide with worry. Some of the torments she'd concocted for Harry had been extreme, and to think that she might have become a source of pain for him upset her to the core. She trembled just a little as she raised a hand to knock. She had to continue her front, if she had any hope of getting Harry away from this place for the summer.

Petunia Dursley answered the door.

"Ah," Ivy tried to smile. "You're home."

"Yes..." Petunia said, her eyes narrowing. She threw a glance at Harry who was bent industriously over the bench. "May I help you?"

"I..." Ivy began. Her voice seemed to stick in her throat. So much depended on her next few words. Finally, with a sigh of exasperation, she decided to come clean.

"Mrs. Dursley," she ventured. "We need to talk. I..." she paused again, glancing back at Harry. Blackie woofed encouragingly at her from the other side of the hedge.

"I haven't been honest with you and your husband, concerning young Harry. There are some things I must explain."

Petunia's eyebrows arched so high they disappeared under the neatly trimmed curls that graced her wrinkled forehead.

"What do you mean?" she sputtered.

"That research I let you read. You know, the experimental procedures I tried out on Potter? I may have... erm... well. I fudged on them a bit. You see, I didn't really go to such extremes. It was actually a boring two weeks. I...."

Petunia cut her off in mid-sentence. "You mean to say there were no nights spent upright in the closet? No afternoons weeding the lawn with toenail clippers?"

Ivy flinched. It seemed that the Dursleys had remembered more of what she'd made up than she did. "Well... no," she finished simply. "I may have... embellished a bit."

"I must say..." Petunia sputtered again. Her face had gone quite red. When Ivy looked up she saw Dudley smirking out the back window. 

"There's more," Ivy continued. "I got word a few days ago that my brother is ill. In Edinburgh. I'm going to need to go tend to him. I'll be leaving in a day or two. And so you see..." she hated to push things, but there was nothing for it. She had to know if they'd relinquish Harry, and she had to know soon. Preferably before he went off to the Burrow and his friend Ron Weasley. She squinted up at Petunia. 

"I need to know.... What I mean to say is.... Will Potter be a student of mine next summer? There are papers to sign before I leave."

"Well," Petunia said, frowning. "This is highly unusual, is it not? I can't tell you if Harry will be in your care next summer. I can't make that decision on my own. I will have to discuss it with my husband. And I am sure, when he hears how you misled us... he may not be too keen to help you anymore. We thought we were doing you a service, Ms. Ollivander. There was no need to be misleading."

"I know," Ivy muttered, chagrined, but not for the exact reason Petunia Dursley thought she should be. "I went too far. I only hope that you'll forgive me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So you see, Professor, it's all my fault. And if those Dursleys hurt Harry, I'm to blame."

Ivy sat at her kitchen table, doing her best to explain recent events to Professor Dumbledore.

"You're being too hard on yourself, my dear." Dumbledore's likeness in the emerald ring returned. "Perhaps all is not lost. I did not foresee you and Harry concocting a plan like this. Just... give it a day or two. If you fail, there are other ways to make sure Harry's summers are more enjoyable. You will keep me posted?" Even though his likeness was miniscule in the emerald ring, Ivy imagined she could see a twinkle in his eye. 

"Of course," she assured him. Then she broached the other subject that was weighing heavily on her mind.

"Have you heard from Hagrid? I haven't gotten a letter in two weeks. I'm worried."

"Yes, I believe he wrote the other day to say negotiations were finishing up. The giants assured him they didn't trust Voldemort, and promised us their support. He may well be on his way home by now. Perhaps he wanted to surprise you."

"No..." Ivy muttered. "It doesn't feel right. Something's wrong."

"I think that you may be under too much stress, what with things in Hogsmeade, and now this problem with the Dursleys. I'll check Hagrid's last letter again, see if I notice anything between the lines."

"Thank you," Ivy said, watching as he disappeared and the room lost its glow. Maybe he was right. Too much stress. Too much worry about whether the Dursleys would actually try some of the things she'd made up in her 'report'. (And more than upset with herself that she'd actually gone and let them read it.) Too much worry about whether she wanted to keep her house in Hogsmeade, or give it up without a fight. She closed her eyes, suddenly feeling more than tired. One thing was certain. Hagrid had stopped writing, whatever the reason. She wished she could quiet her heart with Dumbledore's assumption of a surprise arrival.

"Troubles?" Sirius asked, setting a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the table beside her.

Ivy smiled. "You're going to make me fat."

"I don't think so," he disagreed. "So tell me. What's wrong?"

"Why don't we start with what's right? The list will be shorter."

"Hagrid still hasn't written?"

Ivy shook her head. "Something's wrong. Mars should have aligned with Saturn by now. I mean, I know planets move slowly, but this is ridiculous."

"You've lost me," Sirius said, taking a cookie.

"The stars," Ivy muttered. "The centaur said -"

"You can't listen to centaurs, Ivy. They talk in riddles. It won't make sense unless you know all that they know about constellations and such."

"Why hasn't Hagrid written?"

Sirius reached across the table to touch her hand. "I don't know, Ivy. Do you think he's hurt? Think the giants bumped him off?"

"No!" Ivy nearly shouted. "And you shouldn't even think such things. It's just... those stupid ruddy planets won't align."

"Ivy," Sirius chided.

Ivy stood to her feet, running up the stairs to her room. It was true. She'd been watching Mars and Saturn faithfully for weeks now. They hadn't changed position in the sky, and now Ivy knew Firenze had meant to warn her. To tell her that something wasn't right. Even after all this time she could still remember how he'd looked at her. With so much sadness in his eyes. She'd thought he was worried, back then. It had been the night of Voldemort's return. Harry'd disappeared. They'd all been worried. But now she knew better. Now a certain chill had settled in her heart where Rubeus Hagrid was concerned, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. Sitting down at her dressing table, Ivy began another letter.

Dear Hagrid,

Where are you? Why haven't you written? I'm so worried. Please write and tell me what's happened. I need to hear from you. Summer's almost over. Will you be home soon? I miss you. Badly.

Talk to me, Hagrid,

I love you.

Ivy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Talk to her, Hagrid. She loves you. She'll understand," Maxime's thick accent caused a dull ache in the half-giant's forehead. They were almost home, and Hagrid had begun to count the hours when he'd be free from his companion's incessant chatter.

"I will write her a letter myzelf, then" Olympe went on. "And tell her what happened."

"Nuthin' happ'ned," Hagrid muttered. "Min' yer own bis'ness."

"But you _are_ my business, Hagreed. You are my friend. I cannot just ztand by and watch you throw love away. I refuse."

Hagrid snorted, gazing out the window of their coach. His eyes saw nothing of the quickly moving scenery. They were focused on other things. Things like the brutality of his relatives, the indifference of his mother. Her lack of maternal attachment had shocked him. She'd been no different toward him than the other giants; mean-spirited, and vulgar, sometimes downright cruel. And still producing him half-brothers and sisters, fathered by whichever giant happened to be closest and richest. Hagrid had counted 4 siblings, none of whom had been spawned by the same father. Even now, a continent away, he couldn't help but shudder. 

He'd had a revelation one night while watching as his mother hit her youngest daughter with a club. Staring at the unconscious form of a six-year-old nearly as big as he was, Hagrid knew he would never be good enough for Ivy Ollivander. Not with the blood that ran in his veins. Giant blood. Brutal, callous giant blood, and it would surface eventually. Just imagining himself doing any of the things he'd seen his mother do caused him nightmares. He couldn't subject Ivy to that. Wouldn't. No matter how much she loved him. 

It would be hard at first. She wouldn't accept it. But Hagrid resolved to be even more stubborn than she was. He wouldn't change his mind. And every time he thought he might, he'd just recall the sickening thud, his sister's shocked cry of pain, and the shout of laughter it had solicited from his mother. His own flesh and blood.

Tears coursed down the half-giant's cheeks as the carriage continued its flight. The pain caused by Maxime's rebuff and Rita Skeeter's lies had felt nothing like this. This was hopelessness to an extreme he'd never known. He'd seen the future in Ivy's eyes, and it had been good. He'd thought of nothing but making her his own ever since they parted company in early summer. He could still remember how it felt when she'd pressed her lips against his chest. How his heart had swelled with love for his skinny, freckle-faced friend. Now he felt that same heart break into thousands of tiny shards, each one doing its best to pierce his very soul. 

"She wouldn't ha' me anyway, if she knew," he told himself, defiantly. "If she'd eh seen 'em." He imagined Ivy, standing over his giant little sister, the horror in her eyes matching his own, until they turned to him, putting everything together in her mind. Realizing that he had come from these people. The eyes he imagined grew wide with fear. Of him. If the real Ivy ever looked at him that way.... An anguished groan escaped him. Maxime's hand on his shoulder went unnoticed as the carriage drew him ever closer to home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy woke with a start. She'd been dreaming again. Dreaming of flying the skies on the back of a wild hippogriff, safely secured in Hagrid's arms. He'd been kissing her in this one. Bruising her lips with his passion for her. And she'd responded with a fervor of her own. Then they'd landed, and he'd swept her off the back of the beast, laying her gently at the foot of a massive oak tree, on a bed of flower petals. She knew what was coming. Impatience filled her as he turned to secure the hippogriff. But like every other time she'd had this dream, once again, it ended too soon. Hagrid had turned toward her, had made his way to where she waited, and just as he knelt at her side, just as he bent his head to kiss the spidery red mark in the hollow of her throat, he'd disappeared. Changed from a Hagrid she could see and feel into a vapor of smoke that whisked away from her on the slight summer breeze. 

She woke up short-tempered, the impatience she'd felt in her dream overflowing into real life. She headed downstairs, not even bothering to change out of the nightshirt she'd slept in. Hagrid's nightshirt. The one she'd borrowed from his cabin. It was too large for her frame, and even buttoned all the way up it still slipped continually off one shoulder. It hid her hands inside sleeves that were hopelessly too long, dragged the ground behind her as she shuffled across the kitchen. Her hair, loose and sleep-tousled, floated in wispy waves around her face. She brushed it back, to no avail, reaching into a cabinet for a tea cup. Just then a familiar voice broke the kitchen's silence.

"Good morning, Ivy."

A still sleep-bedraggled Ivy whirled around at the sound of Rosmerta's voice. The cup she'd held fell, shattering at her feet.

"Is this any way to greet your guests, love?" Rosie grinned, flipping her wand out and flicking it toward the broken china. The cup rose, fully repaired, as Ivy's brain finally cleared of sleep and dreams. She plucked it out of the air, set it on the counter and flung herself at her friend. It wasn't until she glanced over Rosie's shoulder that she noticed Remus Lupin sitting at the table, like it was nothing in the world for the two of them to come visiting Muggle suburbs.

"What are you two doing here?" she sputtered. 

"We came to fight fire with fire," Remus said, beaming. 

Ivy gave him a puzzled look. She was just about to cross the room to welcome him, when she heard footsteps on the stairs. She walked to the stairwell, where Sirius grasped her by the shoulders. He had not seen that they had company.

"Ivy," he murmured, the ball of his thumb rolling gently across her collar bone. "Are you alright? I heard you crying last night...." Slowly it dawned on him that they were not alone. His grip on her tightened as he glanced over her shoulder at Remus and Rose.

"Who?" was all that Rose could manage. Ivy turned around, realizing that this was the first time her friend had seen Sirius out of his animagus form. Rose had fallen heavily into her chair, still staring openly at Sirius. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized him.

"You're Sirius Black," she said flatly, reaching for her wand once again. Ivy took a step backward, making sure that she stayed between Sirius and Rose. Remus lay a hand on Rose's arm, trying his best to explain.

"It's not what you think," he muttered nervously. 

"Why?" Rose tried a different word. "Why is there a murderer in Ivy's house?"

"I can explain that," Ivy said cautiously. "And I will. If you promise to put that wand down. Sirius is my friend, Rose. I won't let you hurt him."

"I don't have to hurt him," Rose reminded. "All I have to do is notify any wizard at the Ministry, and it'll be the Dementor's Kiss for him. He's... ." She shot a puzzled look at Ivy. "He's a wanted criminal."

"He's my best friend." Ivy countered. "After you, of course. He's Blackie. The shaggy dog. Remember? And he never murdered anyone. He was set up."

Just then there was a knock on Ivy's front door. She looked down, realizing that she was still in her night clothes. Pulling Hagrid's nightshirt up over her shoulder (where it promptly slid down again) she went to the door.

Outside, on her front step, stood Arthur and Charlie Weasley. Ivy looked around for Sirius, but he'd already transformed, and sat panting in the stairwell.

"Are you going to let them in?" Remus asked, grinning.

Ivy glanced at him, wondering how he could seem so cheerful at such a tense moment. She pulled the door open, not even attempting to mask her emotions. This was not a good day for reunions. In a few hours she was scheduled to meet with the Dursleys for their final decision on Harry's future. If even a hint of anything magical happened before that was settled....

Charlie embraced her, planting an unapologetic kiss on her neck, while his father crossed the room, shook hands with Lupin and dropped an official looking briefcase unto the table.

"I see we're all here then," he said.

"Yes, but we're not all dressed," Rose pointed out. She wagged a finger at Ivy. "Maybe you'd better go back upstairs and..."

"Wait," Ivy muttered. "Why don't I go call Harry over? Then we could have a really nice party."

Rose managed a smile.

"I think we've caught Ivy at a bad time," Remus explained. 

Blackie woofed and Ivy threw her hands up in surrender. "All right," she told them. "I'll go get dressed. But let me just warn you. This is Muggle-land. If the Dursleys begin to think... even for a moment... that I am not what I seem, everything I've worked all summer for will do right down the drain."

Rose shooed Ivy up the stairs while Charlie swore they'd do nothing magical. Blackie's toenails clicked on the hardwood as he followed her upstairs.

"Did you know all these people were coming today?" Ivy turned on him.

He shook his head as his animagus form melded into Sirius Black. "I _have_ spoken to Remus about certain..." he floundered as she gave him a blistering look.

"Ivy," he tried to smooth things over. "You've been very upset of late. I thought if we could come up with a plan to at least get your house back..."

"Is that why everyone's downstairs?" she asked.

Sirius nodded. "They've come a long way. I'll let them explain." Placing a hand at the small of her back, her pushed her into her bedroom, and then closed the door. Returning to dog form, he made two tight circles, then flopped down heavily in the hallway. 

Ivy leaned against the door. Sirius was trying to help. She had to remember that. She was happy for his company, most of the time. And she knew it was good for Harry to have him around. And Sirius seemed happy to be with them. She only wished he hadn't seen fit to meddle in her affairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There are no "zoning" laws in Hogsmeade, Ivy," Arthur Weasley explained over soft boiled eggs and toast. "These real estate barristers are making it up. Probably thought that you'd never even question..."

"So I can get my house back?" Ivy asked, finally over her shock and actually beginning to enjoy her company. 

"That's where Rose and Remus come in," Charlie told her. "They have a plan.... Well, I'll let them explain." He reached across the table and took Ivy's hand in his own as Remus began unpacking a small black satin-covered box.

"We are going to challenge Zack Zonko," Rose explained. "And ask for a magic test." But Ivy wasn't listening. She was staring at the contents of Lupin's box. First out was a wand, mahogany by the look of it. Then came two small vials and a goblet whose contents began to smoke as soon at it hit open air.

"What's all that?" she asked nervously. Even Fang, over in his corner by the love seat, sat up and gave a little whine.

"Magic Boosters," Rose explained proudly. "And this," she presented the wand. "Is from your Great Grandfather. And Professor Dumbledore. They've been working on a few... shall we say... enhancements?"

Ivy gasped in shock. "You're talking about cheating to get my house back. Why can't I just get it back because it's mine?"

"Ivy," Remus went on. "If we can prove that there's even a little bit of power running through your veins, Zonko will have to withdraw this whole silly business. We were hoping you'd give it a try."

She gazed at all their hopeful faces. "I've spent the whole summer trying to be the perfect Muggle... and now you want me to pretend to be magic? Really...." But her resolve was wavering. She looked around her little rented house. Small and boring as it was, with every angle square and every corner straight, she'd had some very sweet times here. With Sirius, Harry and Fang all together, it had almost felt like home. In days they'd all be leaving, and if Zack got her house then she'd never be able to recapture that feeling of family. Not to mention, she did have to have a place to bring Harry to, if the Dursleys let her have him for next summer.

"Oh alright," she said, sighing. "What do I have to do?"

Remus explained the potions in the goblet and the vials.

"Drink this now, and then take two drops from this vial every morning, three drops from this one at night. We'll schedule the test in a few weeks. That should give enough time for the potion to build up in your system, and you can work on a few simple charms in the meantime."

"Like... Wingardium Leviosa?" Ivy reached for the wand while Charlie nodded encouragingly.

"Potion first," Rose reminded, pushing the goblet toward Ivy.

"And...." Arthur Weasley spoke up cautiously. "There's no guarantee. You could still end up without a trace of power, even after all this... endeavor."

Ivy bit her lip. "You mean it still might not work? And what about the Dursleys? I have to meet with them in an hour or two. This won't make me turn them into toads by accident?"

"The Dursleys?" Remus asked, passing the vials across the table to Ivy. She nodded, then went about explaining how she'd been baiting the Muggles.

"I think we'll be alright," Remus assured her. "Drink the potion now. It loses potency after an hour or two. It's really the stuff in the vials that'll boost your power, anyway. And don't look at it as cheating, Ivy. What Zonko's doing is cheating."

"And lying," Rose muttered.

"And stealing," Charlie added with a grin. Arthur had gotten up from the table and was examining all the appliances.

"Is this thing what they call a Fridigair?" he asked, pulling open the refrigerator.

"Frigidaire," Ivy corrected, reaching for Lupin's potion. A pasty green substance bubbled softly in the goblet. It tasted like grass, although the thick, slimy texture made her think of raw eggs as it slid down her throat. Her stomach rebelled as it landed inside her, and her eyes crossed for a minute. She looked up, feeling a bit tipsy as each of her friends suddenly doubled, then tripled. A giggle escaped her as she imagined seeing three Dudley Dursleys.

"Can I try the wand?"

"No!" Rose, Remus, Charlie and Arthur said at once.

"You have to give the potion time to settle in," Remus told her.

Two hours later she was down to seeing double. The drunken feeling still caught her at odd moments, like when she turned her head. Arthur and Charlie had Apparated after lunch, and Remus and Ivy'd spent the rest of the afternoon trying to convince Rose that Sirius was trustworthy.

Fang let out a howl when Ivy headed toward the door. She steadied herself and glanced back at Lupin, head swimming at the sudden movement.

"When did you say this stuff would settle in? I'm supposed to meet the Dursleys for tea. I had some papers around here somewhere." She glanced around, eyes lighting on the forms resting on a side table.

"Remus," Rose muttered. "Do you think we should let her go yet? It might be wise if she turned up late."

"No!" Ivy responded, gripping the back door jamb. "I have to let them convince me to have Harry. I mean..." she rubbed a hand across her brow. It felt as though the wiring from her brain and her tongue had been switched. "Convince them...."

Remus gripped Ivy by the shoulders, looking her steadily in the eye. 

"What's my name?"

"Lupin," Ivy insisted. "Sirius Lupin Black. Wait. You're Remus. Lupin. And that's Rosmerta. And Fang. Harry's next door." She blanched. "Oh my stars... Harry's next door and I can't even hold a conversation."

"She's sobering up," Lupin told Rosie.

Ivy silently disagreed. The fight between her brain and body was tremendous. The knowledge that there was magic in her veins was out-weighed by the feeling that it would explode out of her skin any minute, exposing her to the Muggles. Only the seriousness of the situation with Harry made it past her scrambled senses. 

"I wish you could transform into a fly or something," she pointed unsteadily at Sirius, who stood to his feet. "I'd feel a lot better if you were with me."

Sirius took her hand. It trembled at his touch. 

"Oh Sirius..." Ivy's eyes filled with tears. Black pulled her into his arms, kissing her just as freely as if he'd been in dog form and set to licking her cheek. She sagged against him.

"You'll do fine," he told her. "No matter what, love."

"But Harry told me he'd run if he can't get away from the Dursleys. He hates them, so. And I can't blame him. He's willing to give up Hogwarts... everything."

"You can't save Harry," Sirius whispered. "No matter what happens over there this afternoon, good or bad, you've done your best. Nobody wants them to turn Harry over to you more than I do, but if it doesn't work...."

Ivy pressed her fingers over his mouth, shaking her head vigorously. "Don't," she implored him.

Sirius closed his eyes. Ivy had no idea what her touch did to him. Suddenly he knew how desperately she wanted to rescue Harry. He felt his own desire to insulate her from her fears nearly overpower him. If they had been alone at that moment, he knew what he would have done. He'd have swept Ivy off her feet, kissed away her concerns for Harry, for Hagrid, for her house in Hogsmeade. Made her forget everything except how much he loved her. As it was, he pressed his lips against the fingers resting on them. He covered her hand with his own, kissing it as fiercely as though it was her mouth. 

Something in his touch must have reached her, for her eyes cleared, and she started a bit at the sound of Remus Lupin's polite cough behind them. She swallowed hard and gave Sirius a somber nod. 

"Thank you," she whispered, dropping her hand. She kissed him gratefully, cupping his face in her hands. Much went unspoken between them at that moment, as their eyes locked. Then Ivy squared her shoulders and turned toward the door. 

"Wish me luck," she told the others, managing a quick smile. Then she was outside, in the balmy breeze of a summer afternoon, crossing the garden to the Dursley's immaculate home, ready to fight for Harry Potter.


	21. The Magic Test

Ivy entered the Dursley's home warily. Petunia led her through the lounge and into the kitchen. Dudley's immense form appeared as they approached the table. He had something slim and wooden in his hands. Twirling it casually, he threw a piercing look at his mother.

"Ms. Ollivander," he greeted her formally. Ivy tried her best to look nonplussed as she recognized the item in his hand. It was a wand, and it had to be Harry's. Dudley pointed it at her, then used it to motion her to a seat. 

"Dudley," she returned, smiling graciously. "What have you got there?" 

"Don't you know?" he sneered. He held up the wand and for a moment Ivy was sure they'd gone and done something horrible to Harry. That all that was left of him was his wand in Dudley's hand.

"It looks like what magicians use," she forced the words out of her mouth. "You know, Abracadabra... watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat...?"

Dudley smirked. "Exactly." He pushed himself to his feet and waddled breathlessly to his mother's side.

"She knows what this is," he hissed to Petunia.

"Have you taken up magic, Dudley," Ivy asked innocently, slipping into her appointed seat. "I know a few card tricks. I can teach them to you if you'd like."

"You know magic?" he pressed. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Well," Ivy shrugged. "Everybody knows one or two really good tricks, don't they?" She held her hand out toward the wand, even though her head began to swim a little as Dudley brought it closer.

"WHAT ON EARTH?" Vernon Dursley exploded as he entered the kitchen. He snatched the wand out of Dudley's pudgy fist and flung it through the door and into the hallway.

"We just wanted to make sure, dad," he explained, turning a bright shade of pink. "Couldn't this all be a trick? Maybe she's in it with _them_... you know...." He stopped. His father had never turned such an apoplectic look in his direction.

Ivy watched in mock confusion, even as understanding dawned on her. Dudley was giving her a magic test of his own. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry dart into the hallway and scoop up his wand, before slouching into the kitchen. Petunia served tea while Vernon and Dudley got themselves re-settled.

"The paperwork I told you about..." Ivy spoke quietly, passing her forms across the table to Vernon, who was studying her most earnestly. Her stomach flip flopped when she wondered if he gave any credence to Dudley's theory. 

"And once again, I apologize for any inconvenience my... um... previous embellishments may have caused." Her eyes flicked over Harry long enough for him to discern to whom she was apologizing.

"Well... " Vernon Dursley puffed up importantly. "I believe we can all stop pretending as of this moment. I know exactly why you did what you did, Ms Ollivander." He paused for effect, and it worked. Everyone at the table leaned in to hear his announcement.

"There are times when intense desire pushes each of us in the wrong direction. I am not condoning your actions, Ms. Ollivander, but I would like to make it clear that I understand your thinking."

Ivy bit her lip. 

"And," Dursley's gaze softened momentarily. "I may have been guilty of the same thing a time or two, myself."

Ivy let out the breath she'd been holding as Petunia and Dudley turned looks of amazement at the elder Dursley.

"Come on, Petunia," he prodded, his moustache puffing up as he raised an eyebrow at his wife. "The Mason report? Remember? And that time I needed to impress the superintendent of that hardware chain?"

"Vernon!" Petunia gasped, scandalized. "Whatever are you saying?"

Her husband smiled a private smile, and Ivy realized that he was getting exactly the outcome he wanted from this meeting. He was about to sign away one Harry Potter, constant thorn in his side for the past 15 years. Nothing Petunia or anyone else said was going to change his intentions. He signed the papers with a flourish, and for the briefest of moments Ivy resisted the urge to fling her arms around his neck. Then she remembered he didn't have one.

"We all fudge our paperwork from time to time, is all I'm saying," he told a sputtering Petunia.

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Dursley," Ivy spoke into the stunned silence. To her surprise her eyes filled with tears, and she felt a little swimmy.

"There, there, dear," Vernon said loftily. "I also understand the gratitude one feels when facing those who facilitate their dreams. No thanks are necessary. Your reform of young Potter will be repayment enough."

Ivy resisted the urge to laugh out loud. She didn't dare look at Harry, for she knew that if she did, the jig would be up. She wouldn't be able to hide her grin.

"There are a few technicalities we must address," Vernon continued as he passed her the signed papers. "You may pick Harry up here the second day of June, and deposit him at King's Cross Station on the first of each September. His school belongings and needed materials will no longer be our responsibility, but yours. And if he becomes too much to handle, you will NOT, under any circumstances, return him here. Once he's in your hands, I'm afraid...."

Ivy nodded solemnly, careful to look properly intimidated, as she folded the papers and tucked them into her pocket. They felt like leaves of gold there, and Ivy imagined them warming her entire being.

"And what about the rest of the summer, Sir," she asked, giving her total attention to Vernon. She batted her eyelashes as he looked down his moustache at her. He puffed up a bit, licking his lips as he fell under the spell of her green eyes. 

Inside, Ivy's skin was crawling. She wanted more than anything to make a graceful exit, but first she had to make sure Harry's next few weeks were addressed.

"He'll be going to visit a friend," Petunia broke in coldly. Apparently she did not appreciate the look that had passed between Ivy and her husband. "You said you had to tend to a sick brother, anyway. Did you not?"

Ivy turned her attention to Petunia. "Yes," she murmured. "I'd be happy to take Potter with me, though. He could take care of the dogs for me in the animal car on the train." Her eyes widened in shock as she felt Vernon Dursley's chunky hand slide under the table to rest on her knee. Suddenly she feared that her batting eyelashes had sent a stronger message than she had meant them to. But she didn't dare move. She pushed her hand into the pocket where the guardianship papers rested, then glanced at Vernon. His face was the color of a red beet. 

"I already gave my word," Petunia continued. "Why, I'll never know. But that's beside the point now." She eyed her husband suspiciously and Vernon gave Ivy's leg a final slow squeeze, then he brought both hands out onto the table.

"I was hoping he could help me pack my things?" Ivy ventured, stealing a glance at Vernon. A vein throbbed visibly in his temple. "The moving men come tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to see to that," Vernon spoke up. "To show once and for all that there are no hard feelings between us."

Petunia crossed the room and stood between Ivy and Vernon. She'd slapped her husband's shoulder before she realized it. "You'll do no such thing. You have a busy day at work tomorrow, and Harry has absolutely nothing to do with his time. As a matter of fact, I think he should start helping Ivy pack right now." The look she gave Vernon was deadly.

Ivy knew her cue when she heard it. She stood to her feet. "I can't tell you what it's meant to me," she said. "Meeting you all this summer. You've given me so much." Her cheeks burned as she fought an impulse to look at Harry. "More than you'll ever know." 

She shook Dudley's fat sweaty hand, then Petunia's, then turned to Vernon. He held her hand until Petunia slapped his arm again. They saw her out the back door, Harry in tow. Then the two of them crossed the garden. As they mounted the steps to her house, Ivy's hand clamped over Harry's mouth. "No war whoops until the door is properly-" As the door shut behind them he surprised her by picking her up off the ground and twirling her around in circles.

"You pulled it off!" he shouted, as Sirius joined them. Harry set Ivy down and dizziness overtook her. She fell to the couch with a thud, as she realized how close she'd come to losing Harry forever.

"_We_ pulled it off, Harry," she said weakly. "Together." She swiped at the place where Vernon had squeezed her knee, as if she could brush away the memory of his greasy touch. Rose and Remus came in from the kitchen, a case of bottled butterbeer in tow, and the party began in earnest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Try it again, Ivy," Rose said from her place at pub's huge kitchen table. Ivy stomped her foot in frustration. She'd been faithfully taking Remus Lupin's power boosting potions for two months, but even with the Magical Magnifier in her wand, she had yet to move anything set before her. Once a wooden bowl had trembled a little though, so neither Rose or Remus let her quit.

Ivy pointed the wand at a tea cup this afternoon. A warm glow of golden light from the mullioned windows enveloped her in late summer's glow. Coming home had been less painful, knowing Harry wouldn't have to endure the Dursleys any more, although she had yet to see Hagrid. Fang disappeared in the direction of his cabin every morning, but wandered listlessly back to the pub every night. Ivy assumed that he hadn't returned yet from his mission.

"Go on," Rose encouraged. "You're not concentrating."

"Rose..." Ivy whined. "Nothing's going to happen. I've been pointing this thing at everything from dust motes to cauldrons, and nothing's moved. I want to take a break."

"And what would you do with a break, hmm?" Rose countered. "Go visit that empty house down the road? Or the one over at Hogwarts? Ivy... you've got to believe you can do this or it's never going to happen."

"I've spent too many years believing I couldn't," Ivy said irritably. "You can't undo that in two months time."

"Just concentrate," Rose insisted. "It doesn't have to be much. Just enough to show Zack Zonko you're not un-Magical."

"But I _am_ un-magical," Ivy said, stomping her foot one more time. "Or I wouldn't have spent all those years outside the magical community."

"There, you see, that's you're problem." Ivy blushed as Sirius entered the kitchen. "As long as you won't believe, don't worry, you'll never move that cup an inch."

"Then tell me how to believe it," Ivy countered. 

"Believe you're magic?" Sirius gave a little laugh. 

"Yes," Ivy challenged. "Tell me how."

Sirius crossed the room. His hand slid under her wand arm, steadying it, aiming it toward the cup. "You got Harry back for us," he murmured in her ear. "That's something nobody else was able to do. I'd call it magical. You bewitched a giant. And turned a dog into a man." His grip on her wrist tightened and his other arm went around her waist. He positioned her in the crook of his arm. 

"Does it take more power to do all that, do you think? Or move a stupid cup?"

Ivy swallowed, hypnotized by his low voice in her ear, his hands entwined in hers. 

"Believe, Ivy. The rest of us do. Remus wouldn't stay up into the night concocting these potions if he didn't. Rose wouldn't push you so hard if she didn't. And I..." he paused. "You've given me more reason to believe than anyone. Let me show you how much I believe in your magic." His voice had dropped to a whisper in her ear, and his grip on her got more possessive. 

Ivy stared into his eyes, seeing herself reflected there. For an eternity she watched herself, then her vision blurred as his words sank in. She knew what he wanted, and tears sprang up behind her eyelids. Reaching out, her fingers trembled across his cheekbones. Suddenly she didn't dare breathe.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she murmured. The china cup rose steadily toward the ceiling, but Ivy didn't notice. She knew that Sirius was about to kiss her as he'd never kissed her before. And she knew she was going to let him. The tea cup floated patiently as Ivy accepted his mouth on her own. He let out the breath he'd been holding, right into her open mouth, his hand trailing raggedly down her neck. He pulled her to him until her body melded against his own, and he covered her face with his kisses. He whispered his love for her into her ears, her mouth, the curve of her neck. The spell weaved between them was palpable. Even Rose and Remus remarking over the levitated cup couldn't break it. But finally, slowly, something that had been thumping in the back of Ivy's head began to surface. The gold band that dangled at her wrist began to come between them, as the afternoon sun made it glow. 

As Sirius's mouth trailed down her neck, she remembered how it had felt when Hagrid had kissed her, the day before he left, right in front of Professor Dumbledore. When Sirius's tongue pushed past her lips, she remembered the one and only night she'd allowed Hagrid the same access. How she'd pulled on his shirtsleeves trying to get closer to his shaggy-soft moustache, and how he'd finally taken her into his arms.

"When're we gonna do this?" he'd asked her, and she thought he'd meant then what Sirius meant now as he continued his caresses. Black's eyes asked the same question, his hands demanded an answer, and she pulled away from him when she realized there was only one answer she could give. 

The tea cup crashed to the floor. Sirius blinked, deflating right before her eyes. 

"I love you..." Ivy managed, the unspoken 'But' that they both knew came next hung over their heads for a moment, then Sirius dropped his hands and backed toward the door.

"Sirius, please don't leave me," she begged. He stopped in the doorway.

"You ask too much," he managed. A cry escaped Ivy's lips as he disappeared out the door, and Ivy knew she'd never see him again. She kicked the cup across the kitchen, then ran after him. Too much had passed between them for her to let go. She searched the streets, the alleys, the back gardens of Hogsmeade, but no Blackie. Even though she didn't want to, her feet dragged her to their meeting place, the rocky outcropping just past her old house.

"Blackie!" she called, until her voice was gone. "Blackie.... Please come home." She hugged herself, knowing full well she had no business using that word to entice him back to her. She could no more promise him a home than she could promise him the moon. 

"Blackie, please."

There was no response until she turned to walk away. Then she heard an all too familiar whine at the edge of the dark forest. Blackie. Ever faithful Blackie. And Ivy knew he couldn't leave her if he tried. Perhaps Sirius Black could walk away, but the dog Ivy had befriended never would. She threw herself across the stream at him. 

"Please don't leave me, Blackie. Please don't go." She begged unashamedly. He sat beside her for a long time, occasionally snuffling the tears that coursed down her cheeks. Ivy clung to him as she'd never done before. How could she let go? His love for her had given her the faith to do magic. His love had made her house a home. He stood up after a while, as the sky began to darken. Brushing his warm doggy tongue across Ivy's cheek one last time, he turned toward the forest. Ivy's heart sank, but she didn't call him back. Sirius was right. That would be asking too much. 

Standing to her feet, Ivy set off down the bank, slogging through the stream without even trying to keep her robes dry. Like someone hypnotized, she climbed the far bank and walked across High Street. Turning right would lead her to what once had been her dragon-decorated cottage, but Ivy turned left. Coming to the rocky crag where she'd spent countless hours in Blackie's company, she settled in. She had some thinking to do, and in her years on Hogsmeade, she'd found this the best place to do that. 

The vulture flock had mostly settled in for the night. Every now and then one of the birds would spread its wings, rocking from one foot to the other in an attempt to get more comfortable. Ivy watched, wide-eyed. She drew her knees against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. So many thoughts ran through her head that she could barely keep track, but she knew one thing for certain, she had some decisions to make. She knew it wasn't fair to keep Black hanging. The wheels of memory took her back to their first meeting, in Rosie's back alley. He'd been just a stray then, lonely and hungry. Ivy closed her eyes, but opened them as a soft 'pop' sounded at her side.

Remus Lupin Apparated in front of her.

"Thought I'd find you here," he said, reaching for her hand. Ivy braced herself against the rocks and helped Lupin scramble up beside her.

"It's time for your bedtime potion," he smiled apologetically. Handing her the vial, he watched as she measured three silver drops out under her tongue. She handed him back the dropper with a heavy sigh.

"You alright?" he asked.

Ivy gave a sad little laugh. "Not really," she whispered. 

Remus nodded. "I noticed you and Sirius in the kitchen this afternoon."

Ivy turned to look at him, her wide-eyed stare so full of hopelessness that he had to look away.

"I don't know what to do. Or rather, I do, but I haven't the guts to do it."

"Trying to decide between Hagrid and Sirius?"

"I already decided that," Ivy said, holding up her arm. Hagrid's mother's golden ring glinted in the moonlight. "I have to let Sirius go."

Tears came to her eyes even as the words left her mouth. "It's not fair, what I'm doing. Keeping him here because I need him. Because I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" Remus asked.

"Magic tests," Ivy muttered. "Losing my house. Losing Hagrid."

Remus remained silent, waiting for Ivy to continue. 

"Sirius has been right beside me all summer. That house in Little Whinging... when Harry was with us, we were our own little family. When I concocted a plan to get Harry away from those horrible Dursleys, Blackie was there. When the plan almost backfired Blackie was there. When I got a letter saying Zonko wanted my house back... when Hagrid stopped writing. Right beside me all along, Remus. He made me believe in magic today. How did this happen? Why didn't I see it? And how can I repay all that by sending him away? I owe him..." she shook her head. 

"Do you think he'd want your heart if he thought you gave it because you owed him?" Remus asked.

Ivy shook her head. "He deserves more than that."

"I agree."

"He deserves true love," Ivy said. "Passionate, strong... determined."

"The way you love Hagrid...."

"Yes," was all Ivy could say.

"The way I love Rose."

"I hope," Ivy murmured.

They sat in silence a while longer, then Remus stood to his feet. "I need to get back to the pub," he said, making his way off the rocks. "I told Rose I'd only be a minute. You haven't made anything...?" he swished his hand around apologetically. "I mean... I suppose now's not the best time, but I wondered if...."

Ivy managed a ghost of a smile. Pulling her wand out of her robes, she pointed it at some pebbles. "Wingardium Leviosa," she spoke dully. The pebbles rose into the air in front of Lupin. "Accio," Ivy continued, and one of the larger rocks trembled, then flew obediently into her hand.

"Incendio," she threw the rock into the air, where it promptly burst into flame. Lupin grinned, ecstatic. His smile faded when he noticed Ivy's tears. He climbed back onto the rocks and drew her into his arms.

"Sirius did that," she whispered. "He made me believe."

"I think he'd be happy to know that," Remus comforted. "Maybe you should...."

Ivy sniffled against Lupin's robes. She clung to him for a moment, then let go. "This would be a lot easier if I'd at least heard from Hagrid in the last month. Wish I knew why he stopped writing."

"He's not...?"

"He's not hurt or...." Ivy shook her head. "I asked Dumbledore. He's gotten letters. I haven't, but he has."

"Strange...." Lupin agreed.

"Tell Rose I'll be home soon," Ivy said, giving Lupin permission to leave. She'd made up her mind. As soon as Remus left she was going to go see if Hagrid was home. 

"Alright, Ivy," Lupin said. "Be careful out here."

Ivy gave him a lop-sided grin.

"OK."

Then he was gone, and she was alone again. She waited until she could no longer hear Lupin's footsteps, then pushed off the rocks, crossed the stream, and headed up the path toward Hagrid's. 

The forest was dark, foreboding, but Ivy didn't notice. Fog had stolen over the ground, and she left the path a time or two, tripping unceremoniously over roots and brambles. So intent was she on her destination that she never noticed the black dog following her. 

Blackie kept to the shadows, moving with a familiarity that spoke of the countless days and nights he'd spent in the forest. He stopped when Ivy fell, hackles raised against any intruder. When she left the woods and crossed to Hagrid's cabin, Blackie melted into the pumpkin patch.

Ivy saw the soft glow of firelight from inside Hagrid's house. It drew her like a moth to its flame. She bounded up the back steps, pounding on the door before she even considered what time it was. Hagrid was home! Surely he'd be happy to see her no matter what time it happened to be. The door creaked slowly open. Fang gave a welcoming bark as Ivy threw herself at the massive shadow she knew was Hagrid. But instead of a warm embrace, he stiffened, pushing her away as though she were something smelly.

"Ivy," he breathed. "Din't know who was there." he sounded groggy, and his whiskey-sodden breath told Ivy he'd been drinking.

"You're home!" Ivy said, her smile faltering a bit as he turned from her to add some wood to his fire. 

"Yeah," Hagrid agreed. "I'm home."

"Well... how was your trip?" Ivy asked stepping forward. "Did you see your mother? Tell me about the hippogriffs."

Hagrid rubbed his face with his hands. "Not now, Ivy," he said. The heaviness in his voice caused Ivy's brow to furrow.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm. "I wondered why you stopped writing. Harry and I were worried."

Hagrid stared down at her hand, then pulled away. He was paler and thinner than Ivy remembered. He looked different, but Ivy couldn't put her finger on why. She began to chatter, telling him about getting Harry away from the Dursleys, and about Lupin's potions and his plan for a magic test to get her house back. Hagrid gave no response. His eyes seemed far away, and when Ivy stared into them she figured out the difference in his look. The spark she remembered in his beetle black eyes, the laughter that always lingered there, was gone now. Her voice trailed away and she sat down at the table, heart sinking lower with each minute he pretended she wasn't there.

"Hagrid?" she murmured. He hadn't moved from his spot in front of the fireplace, even though sweat was running down his face. He continued to stare with that far-off, unfocused look, until Ivy finally crossed the room and shook him.

"Yeh shouldn't be here," he said simply. "Go on home."

"Just like that?" Ivy asked, stunned. "But.... You told me we'd pick up where we left off when you got home. You said you were going to hurry, even if it meant leaving Maxime behind.... You told me you missed me...."

Hagrid shook his shaggy head, closing his eyes, and Ivy swore she saw tears leaking from them. "I can't pick up where we lef' off," he said, grabbing an arm and pulling her toward the back door. "Yeh can't stay here. Yeh shouldn't _be_ here." 

She resisted his tugging on her arm, digging her heels into the floor, but she was no match for his strength. He opened the back door and pushed her through it. 

"It's over fer us, Ivy," he said, voice sounding strangled. "I can't put yeh through it. Now go on home an' don' come back here no more. Stay away from me. Yeh hear? Stay away."

"Hagrid, no!" Ivy shouted, but before she could move he'd shut the door in her face. She brought her fist up to pound on the wood, tears streaming freely down her face. "Tell me why!" she demanded. She sank to the top step and curled into a ball. Her world had gone suddenly surreal. How could Hagrid have stopped loving her? Had he decided to try again for the favors of Olympe Maxime? Had his time with the giants given him a longing for someone larger? Had he met someone else? Someone he loved more than she'd thought he loved her?

A million questions filled Ivy's head, but in the end, she did as Hagrid said. Wrapping her arms around herself, she headed home. Somewhere in Hagrid's garden a dog howled as Ivy made her way through the slowly lightening forest. Back to Hogsmeade, leaving a bit of her heart behind her with every step she took.


	22. Losses And Gains

Time seemed to creep forward after that for Ivy. She continued to take Lupin's Magical Booster potions, and Rose began to instruct her in a Kwickspell course. Harry came to visit her the first Hogwart's Weekend, and Halloween came and went. The date for her confrontation with Zack Zonko was officially set for the fourth day of January. Arthur Weasley had met with Zonko's barristers and set up a time for Ivy to be tested before them all: the Zonkos, their attorneys and several of the oldest and most upstanding of Hogsmeade's citizenry. Professor Dumbledore had promised to be there as well, for he hadn't forgotten asking Ivy to take on a Professorship for the upcoming school year.

Sirius Black had not come anywhere near the Three Broomsticks since the new school year had begun, and for all intents and purposes, Ivy was alone. She watched Rose and Remus, happy that they had each other. They had constructed a steel room underneath the pub, where Remus went once a month, after drinking Rosmerta's perfected Wolfsbane Potion. He always emerged pale and weakened, but soon recovered. They tried hard to draw Ivy in, to include her, but they were wrapped up in each other, and Ivy understood. They got married on Christmas Eve, in a sweet little wedding at the pub, Professor Dumbledore officiating. Ivy and Renaldis Renfroe took care of things while they took a short honeymoon.

Ivy heard rumors that Hagrid had gone back to haunting the Hog's Head, although she never saw him in Hogsmeade. The one time she'd seen him emerging from the forest path he'd Apparated when she'd called his name.

The most ironic part of this whole time of Ivy's life was that she began to show quite a bit of skill with magic. The things she'd always longed to do suddenly became easy, as if in consolation for all that had been lost. Sometimes she caught herself looking over her shoulder, sure that someone, probably Sirius, was helping her along. But there was no one. When January came, she was confident she'd pass the magic test. Then at least she could have her house back, and quit feeling like a third wheel at Rosmerta's.

The magic test was set to occur in a back room at the post office, at 7 pm. Mr. Cornelius had offered it as a place of neutrality, and everyone had agreed. Zack and his father showed up early, the younger Zonko crashing into Ivy and nearly bowling her over to make way for three of the 'Wizards at Real Estate Law", who introduced themselves as Humphrey, Baggette and Bone. The Honeydukes entered next, as friendly as Ivy remembered them. Mrs. Honeyduke patted Ivy's hand reassuringly as they moved forward to take their seats.

Zeke showed up later, and made quite a show of sitting on the opposite side of the room from his rotund brother. Molly and Arthur Weasley were there, as were Rose, and Remus. Professor Dumbledore had graciously given Harry permission to attend as well. Ivy looked them over gratefully. It was nice to know she had so many staunch supporters, but the absence of Hagrid and Sirius Black left her feeling more than a little empty.

At a few minutes after 7, the proceedings began. Zack Zonko's barristers stood up and reminded everyone that Hogsmeade had an illustrious history as the only all-wizarding community in Europe. They rolled out endless parchment, citing precedents for their actions, until Arthur Weasley stood to his feet and argued that first of all, Ivy was not NON-Magical, and secondly, she had not been asked for proof-of-power at the time the house was purchased.

Finally, the question of the magic test was brought up. Ivy agreed to perform a few simple charms, to dispel the rumor that she was a Squib. She took her wand out of her robes and pointed it at a portrait of an ancient previous postmaster.

"Finally got a wand, Ivy?" Zack Zonko sneered, smirking around the room. For a minute Ivy thought he knew more than he was letting on. His smile was more confident than she'd have thought, but then, he had no way of knowing all she'd gone through to be able to produce a little magic.

Arthur Weasley stood up, glaring at Zonko. "There will be no commentating from the opposition, please." 

Zonko raised his beefy hands in mock surrender. "Sorry," he said, looking around. "But you should all remember that I'm doing this for your own good. Once we start letting one person with no magical ability live in Hogsmeade... why it won't be a year before the place is crawling with Muggles."

"Ms. Ollivander is NOT a Muggle," Arthur countered. "She is part of a venerable wizarding family that predates yours, mine... probably everyone in this room. The Ollivanders have been making wands since 300 AD. I think you are in the minority when you assume that Ms. Ollivander will be a detriment to this community."

"She's been here 3 years, Zonko. Why can't you leave her alone?" Rosmerta's voice came from the back of the room. Ivy swung around to look, smiling when she noticed Lupin's restraining hand on Rosie's shoulder.

Zonko stood to his feet. "I will not go down in history as the one who let Squibs and Muggles take over Hogsmeade. Ask her..." he demanded. "Ask her where she lived before she came here. She'll tell you. With Muggles. She taught at their schools, she lived in their houses. She's not one of us."

"Are you finished?" Mr. Cornelius's voice cut across the room. He stood to his feet. "I have known Ms. Ollivander's family for many, many years. I went to Hogwarts with Ivy's great-grandfather. I have lived quite happily in Hogsmeadewith Ivy these past three years, and see no grounds for your attempt to take back her home. The reflection it makes upon you and your family...."

At this point Zeke Zonko stood up. "My brother has made it a point to say that he does not wish to go down in history as the one who let Ivy live Hogsmeade. Well... I would like to go down in history as opposing him whole-heartedly." He flashed Ivy a sheepish, long-toothed grin, then sat back down. "Not all the Zonkos are in agreement with these proceedings."

"Noted, noted," Professor Dumbledore finally spoke up. "I have a stake in these proceedings as well, as I have asked Ms. Ollivander to teach at Hogwarts next term. As I cannot preside over events in Hogsmeade with any authority, I would like to say she has been unanimously accepted at Hogwarts."

This announcement was met with a long silence, then Arthur bowed to Ivy. "Would you mind showing us a Levitation charm?" he asked, most politely. "Nothing advanced, of course, just a simple...."

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ivy spoke to the portrait. She swished her wand and flicked it upward, brow creasing when nothing happened. 

"Accio?" she muttered, shaking the wand. A few sparks fizzled out of the end, landing on the floor and sputtering into ash.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she spoke with more authority this time, glaring at the portrait, to no avail. It didn't even tremble. She stomped her foot impatiently. "Why won't it...?"

She sent a panicked glance toward Remus, who headed toward her. By then a low murmur of voices had begun to fill the room. Ivy's cheeks started to burn.

"Try it again," came Zack Zonko's sneering voice. "We're in no hurry. Show us the grand Ollivander legacy."

Ivy stretched out the wand again, but knew it was no good. Her hand trembled as she whispered, "Incendio." She wasn't pointing at the portrait anymore, her aim had shifted to the left, her wand directed at Zonko. He smirked triumphantly, giving Ivy a mocking look that plainly asked where her magical powers had gone. She turned her back on him, shame flooding her face. How had she ever fooled herself into believing she was magic? How could she stand in front of all these people, people who were her friends, and make an utter fool of herself? She heard the murmurs, the laughter, saw the pity in the eyes of those who came to her side, as her fist opened and her wand clattered to the floor.

"Forget about it," Rose muttered, placing herself between Ivy and everybody else. "I have seen Ivy do magic," she insisted. "So has Remus, and Harry. I don't know what's going on here...."

At that moment Dumbledore crossed the room and bent to speak in Arthur Weasley's ear. A moment later he approached Ivy.

"May I have your wand, Ivy?" he asked kindly. 

She looked toward where it had fallen to the floor, just as Harry thrust it into her hands.

"Thanks," she mumbled, surrendering the wooden instrument to Professor Dumbledore. She had no business keeping it anymore, now the whole town knew she had no magic. Keeping the wand seemed like heresy anyway.

Dumbledore gave her a half-bow, reaching out to squeeze her hands as he took the wand. He tried to hold her gaze, but she couldn't look him in the eye. The others surrounded her then, the Weasleys, Mr. Cornelius, Remus and Rose, each one doing their best to console her, to no avail. She had no words to say to them, no excuses, no explanations. Rose continued her mantra that she had seen Ivy's magic, but Ivy only wanted to go home. To hide from the curious eyes, the piteous glances.

Arthur continued to defend Ivy before the barristers while Rose and Harry ushered her out of the room. They were back at the pub in minutes. Ivy tried to excuse herself and retreat, but Rose wouldn't let her go any farther than the back side of the bar. She poured a goblet of elderberry wine, which Ivy politely refused. The Weasleys showed up some time later, Arthur gently informing them all that in the best interest of the village of Hogsmeade, the Zonko's complaint had been upheld. Zack had his house back. 

"With all due respect, Ivy," he said. "Professor Dumbledore has given his permission for you to come and live on the grounds at Hogwarts. In the suite of rooms he intended to offer with the Professorship. I don't know if that would be of interest to you...?"

Ivy only shook her head, staring at all of them with over-bright eyes. "I'd like to stay with Rose for a while," she told them. "There are some who might be uncomfortable having me at Hogwarts. I'll think of something."

"Ivy," Rose murmured. "You are welcome here for as long as you want to stay. That's why I had an extra room built on the pub this summer. For you." She reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Ivy's cheek, and that's when the tears started. Ivy clung to Rose, hiding her face against her best friend's shoulder. The others shifted uncomfortably in their seats, until Remus wisely offered them a round of drinks. As her tears subsided, Ivy rounded the bar to address the group.

"Thank you all for standing up for me," she said simply. "You'll never know how much your friendship has meant. I didn't think it would end this way, but I do appreciate everything you've done. Arthur... Molly, Remus." Her eyes filled up again, but she managed a watery smile.

"I hope you don't mind, but I..." she shrugged, raising her hands in surrender. Then without another word, she retreated to her room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weather turned wild and stormy in the middle of January. A blizzard hit Hogsmeade full blast for three days. The pub was mostly deserted, except for a few travelers who'd gotten caught in the storm. Ivy'd finally come out of her room when the snow stopped flying. She fixed a pot of hot chocolate and gazed up the road toward where her house had once been. Despite the weather, Zack had made arrangements for the little cottage to be demolished. For once Ivy was glad it had been situated too far down High Street for her to see it from the pub. Seeing what was left would be too hard for her to bear.

She'd gone to pour a tankard of ale for one of the patrons when a hooded figure pushed open the door, trudged in, and sat at the bar. Ivy paid him no mind, until he spoke in a voice that she remembered well.

"It's true then," the hooded figure spoke. "Ivy Ollivander really has left Australia to live in Hogsmeade."

The tankard Ivy had been filling clattered to the floor, and ale went in every direction. Her skirt soaked with it, she turned around to face her father.

"Hello, Ivy," he said, pushing the hood onto his shoulders. He was thinner than she remembered, and his hair was nearly as gray as her great-grandfather's. His eyes beheld her with a warmth that was unfamiliar.

Ivy stared at him, hopelessness settling over her as she finally reached the end of her rope. No doubt he'd come all this way in a storm for only one reason. To demand she leave Hogsmeade. Not that it mattered to her anymore. She'd nearly come to the conclusion that she'd be better off among Muggles anyway. She'd only needed an impetus to do it. To leave her dream of living in the magical realm behind. Seeing her father on the other side of the bar was more than enough to push her that way.

"I happened to see a few papers go across my desk at the Ministry that were meant for Arthur Weasley," Augustus Ollivander explained apologetically. "You remember Arthur, don't you, Ivy?"

Ivy nodded, suddenly disconnected. How odd it seemed to feel like a disobedient child before a man she hadn't seen in 16 years. Part of her wanted to be happy to see him, but the fear she harbored in her heart, and the old bitterness at being sent away, rose up at the sight of him. She gripped both sides of the bar, knuckles whitening, as Willa scrambled behind her, cleaning up her mess.

"It's good to see you," Augustus said quietly. He gave her a wry smile. "How long have you been back?"

"Three years," she told him, offering no apologies. "I suppose you want me to go back home with you, now, though." She picked up a towel and rubbed at the bar.

"Well," Augustus started. "What I'd really like is a bite to eat. Fighting this storm was tiring. I'm famished."

Ivy stared at him.

"You mean you haven't come to take me home?"

"I've come to get my daughter back," he told her. "But we can talk about that tomorrow. Gray-Grand should be here by then."

"You told him you were coming?"

"Yes," Augustus smiled. "Funny thing, that.... He practically begged me to wait until tomorrow. I told him I would, then promptly Apparated. You two are in this together, aren't you?"

Ivy didn't return the smile. "Don't be angry with Gray-Grand. He had nothing to do with this."

"Tomorrow, Ivy." Augustus insisted, wearily. "Right now I'd like to sample the steak-and-kidney pie."

It was late when her father retired for the evening, but as soon as he was settled Ivy kissed Rose and Remus goodbye. She pulled on her heaviest robe, then ventured out into the snow-covered village. She knew her father would ask her to leave with him in the morning, and there was only one person left that she needed to see. She headed toward Hagrid's cabin, hoping that he might change his mind and give her a reason to stay.

Boots crunching over new snow, Ivy headed up High Street. Clouds scudded across the moon, blown by a bitter east wind. She could have gone the short route, past the train station and up the road through the winged-boar front gates of Hogwarts, but her heart was heavy and as bitter as the wind. Sorrow demanded it's fill tonight, and so she headed in the opposite direction. Past the place where her house had stood. She wanted to see the ruins with her own eyes, for they would mirror the shambles that was her life.

When she got there, Ivy had to rub her eyes to believe them. Parts of her old picket fence still stood, leaning crazily against the wind and drifts of snow. There were piles of the rock foundation huddled here and there, and a great gaping hole exposed the basement. Tears filled her eyes and froze on her cheeks when Ivy crouched to look into that hole. The resemblance to her heart was too obvious and painful. 

The wooden table she and Harry and Sirius used to sit around was still there. One chair was broken, tipped over on its side. The others were gone. She crouched in the snow, fingers numbly tracing over a bit of rubble. When she looked down, a gasp of surprise escaped her chest. Her hand rested on a piece of the bedroom wall. She knew it was the from the bedroom by the wallpaper. An emerald green dragon lay at her feet, complete with maiden on its shoulder. She peered closer, brushing away snow until she exposed all the edges. There was the knight in shining armor Charlie Weasley had used to decorate her walls. She held up the paper and plaster, laughing bitterly. "Your were right, Charlie. Dragons are not tamed. Even you couldn't fix this one."

She flung it away from her and stood to her feet, then just as quickly changed her mind, stumbling to the place where it had landed. She picked it back up and clutched it to her chest. Peeling the paper away from the plaster, she folded it up and stuck it in a pocket. Then she wiped her face and set off across the stream to the forest path. In her heart of hearts, she knew this would be the last time she'd ever walk this path. Her feet grew heavier with every passing step.

Halfway across the stream, it happened. Her feet slid on slippery rocks and snow-covered robes. She landed face first in the stream. Its thin coating of ice broke upon her impact, and freezing cold water gushed in on her. Pushing up with her hands, Ivy knelt, dazed, in the stream bed, her mind already numb from the cold. By the time she heaved herself onto the opposite bank, she was soaked to the skin. Her breath went before her in short, ragged puffs that were snatched by the wind.

Stuffing her stinging hands under her arms, she trudged onward, trembling, her heart nearly as numb as her feet. The path seemed to elongate before her, and for a while Ivy was sure she was trapped in a dream. A nightmare where she would keep walking forever, but never, ever make it to Hagrid.

She did make it to the end of the path eventually. Hagrid's cabin stood as it always had, looking like an icing-covered gingerbread house in the moonlight. She mounted the back steps heavily, raising a hand to knock even as the door opened before her.

"My father..." Ivy managed, through chattering teeth. "He found me. I just wanted.... I wanted -" She stepped across the threshold, pushing past Hagrid to stand by his fire. The giant stood aside, staring sadly down at her.

She returned his gaze, pleading with her eyes, begging him to give her a reason to tell her father she was staying in Hogsmeade. But Hagrid turned away, staring instead out his window. Taking this as his answer, she tugged at her sleeve, reaching inside it to pull the gold band from her wrist.

"You'll be wanting this back, then," she whispered, offering it him. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me wearing it anymore...."

Hagrid turned to face her. For a moment he looked as though he might reach out to her, take her in his arms and make everything right between them, but then something clouded his features. Memories that Ivy couldn't see surfaced in his mind, renewing his resolve.

"I don't know what happened," Ivy said. "But know this. I love you, Rubeus Hagrid. Everything about you. I'm not giving this back because I stopped loving you. You should know that, before you take the ring out of my hand."

She stretched her arm toward him, the band of gold glittering in her palm.

"Ivy..." Hagrid breathed. "I can't let yeh...."

"Then take it," Ivy challenged. A deep-seated shiver began in the depths of her being, but she couldn't tell if it was induced by the cold, or the intensity of emotion that had risen within her. Staring at Hagrid had brought all the old longings up inside her. She wanted to whine, and beg him to take her back, but she remained silent.

"Yeh say yer dad foun' out yer in Hogsmeade?" Hagrid sweated, one minute looking as though he would reach for the ring, the next minute stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Ivy nodded. "He'll want me to go back to the Muggles, I'm sure. There's no reason for me to stay now. I'll be leaving in the morning."

"It's fer the best, Ivy," Hagrid whispered, shoulders sagging.

"All right, then," she whispered in surrender. She carefully place the ring on his scrubbed wood table. When she opened the back door to leave snow swirled in with a vengeance. The storm had started up again. In just a few steps the world she knew had disappeared. Just a few more and she was totally lost in the forbidden forest. 

She lost the path early, turning too far north, which only led her deeper into the woods. Walking had become difficult by this time, so she stopped often to rest, reaching down every now and then to brush at the icy coating that advanced upward as her wet robes froze. More than once she fell, but her heart was too heavy to worry about the snow that filled her clothing. 

It was over, as far as Ivy was concerned. Hogsmeade didn't want her. Hagrid didn't want her. How had her Gray-Grand put it? 'It seems this Hogsmeade experiment has failed.' That was it. Ivy congratulated herself for remembering. She sat on a fallen log, so cold that she didn't even notice she'd slipped off it, until her lap was completely buried in snow. Panic seized her then, but it came too late. Sleep beckoned with greater promise. She gave in, slumping over in the snow, while more of the cold white blanket drifted around her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Hagrid's, the half-giant had gone to fetch more wood for his fireplace. He bent to add it to the pile on his hearth, noticing for the first time the puddle that had accumulated where Ivy had stood. His fingers swept across the wetness, as confusion furrowed his brow. Fang had begun to bark from outside by that time, and a curse slipped past Hagrid's lips.

"Ivy," he whispered.

Standing to his feet, he pulled his heavy moleskin overcoat back across his shoulders, opening his door and leaning into the wind. The moon had been obliterated by fresh onslaught of snow-laden clouds. Fang raced into the woods, scented the air, then lumbered back to Hagrid.

"Fin' Ivy, Fang," Hagrid told him. "You go get her. Good dog."

Fang barked once more, then set out. Hagrid could barely discern the depression in the snow that had once been Ivy's trail. He lowered his lantern toward the ground, searching for a clue as to which way she'd gone. He soon found the place where she'd left the path, but the swirling snow had covered any trace of which way she'd headed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy dreamt the dream where she and Hagrid rode the wild hippogriff. Only deep inside her heart she knew it was only a dream. Interspersed within it came the voices. First Hagrid reminding her that everything was better off with its own kind, then Rose telling her to believe, lest she become the Muggle her father had tried to make her into. 'This Hogsmeade experiment has failed,' echoed mercilessly in her brain, until she raised her hands to her ears to make it stop.

'I've come to get my daughter back,' spoke Augustus Ollivander, as Ivy descended into an even deeper sleep. 'This Hogsmeade experiment has failed.' Even Hagrid chimed in, with 'Everything's better off wi' its own kind. It's fer the best, Ivy. It's fer the best.' 

For a while there was silence, and then Ivy imagined her mother calling to her. She tried to turn her head to see where the voice came from, but moving took too much effort. She gave in to the peacefulness of sleep, even ignoring Elana as she yelled her daughter's name.

"Ivy!"

She heard someone call her name again, but knew there was no point in talking back to dreams. Something warm pushed at her hand, then the dream came back. Hagrid scooped her up. Only he didn't put her on a bed of flower petals this time. He maneuvered her inside his coat, pressing her against the oven-warmth of his chest. 

Ivy smiled. It had been so long since she'd heard his heartbeat, but she remembered its cadence. The coat covered her, and she found herself in a dark, warm cocoon where only the rhythm of Hagrid's breathing and heartbeat kept her company. She shivered, pressing herself ever deeper into the moleskin, relaxing to the rhythm of the rocking hippogriff. 

Sometime later, she felt as though someone was stabbing her feet and hands with pins and needles. She cried out, opening her eyes to find herself in Hagrid's arms. He was mounting the back steps to his cabin. She saw the moon for a moment, then they were inside. A roaring fire welcomed them as Hagrid deposited her onto his quilt-covered bed.

"Yeh din't tell me yeh were soakin' wet, Ivy," Hagrid said angrily, pulling off his coat and standing by the fire. He stripped off his waist-coat, vest and shirt, shivering in the firelight. Bare-chested, he bent to add a huge log to the fire, then crossed the room to yank a nightshirt off its hook by the bed.

"Co... cold," Ivy managed. "My feet hurt."

"You'll be lucky if yeh don' lose yer toes an' yer fingers," he returned, bending down to pull off her shoes. Her socks were a mixture of ice and slush as he peeled them away from her skin. Ivy groaned in pain as his fingers kneaded her flesh.

"How'd this happ'n?" Hagrid muttered.

"I fell in the stream," Ivy said dreamily, reaching out to slide a hand across Hagrid's shoulder. He reached up and caught her hand impatiently, swearing under his breath again as he felt her icy fingers.

"Yer gonna hafta come out a those wet clothes."

"Why don't you love me anymore?" she asked, hypothermia still slowing down her senses.

"Take off that robe," Hagrid countered, ignoring her question. "An the rest a that stuff. I'll turn my back."

"But I don't have anything else to wear," Ivy pointed out.

Hagrid tossed her the nightshirt. 

"I have one of these!" Ivy said, grinning. She made a pitiful picture, shaking like a leaf, hair flying out in all directions as she clutched Hagrid's nightshirt to her chest. She fumbled with her buttons, but her hand-to-brain coordination left much to be desired. 

"I can't get these buttons," she complained. "My fingers hurt. I could just swish-and-flick, but I didn't pass the magic test. I can't make my clothes all dry anyway. I don't know the Charm." She stood to her feet, swaying dangerously toward the fireplace.

"It's warm over here," she whispered, and if Hagrid hadn't known better, he'd have sworn she'd been after his mead. She crouched by the fire, arms stretched toward the flames. A new puddle began to form around her feet as her clothes thawed out. Even this close to the fire, she shivered. So much so that Hagrid finally crossed the room and began to unbutton her shirt. 

"Yeh gotta get out a these wet clothes," he repeated.

Ivy only stared up at him, wide-eyed. 

"I forgot.... You don't love me anymore." She blinked, looking down to watch his huge fingers trying to unbutton her shirt. Her fingers entwined with his own as she smiled down at his hands. 

"I missed your hands, Hagrid," she continued. "And your heartbeat."

Hagrid grunted, pushing her wet shirt off her shoulders. A chill went through her again. Gooseflesh covered her skin as Hagrid threw his fire-warmed nightshirt over her head.

"I'm cold," Ivy repeated for the hundredth time, as she struggled with the nightshirt's sleeves.

"Take them wet clothes off and get in my bed," Hagrid said, turning her in that direction. "I'll make some tea. That'll warm yeh up."

Ivy tugged and pulled at the skirt underneath Hagrid's nightshirt, peeling off everything wet. Then she did as she was told, curling into a ball under Hagrid's patchwork quilt. But her time spent frozen in the snow had taken more out of her than Ivy knew. Her body was wracked mercilessly by shivers. Her teeth clattered together so that she found it hard to catch her breath. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get warm.

"I'm cold. I'm cold. I'm cold," she mumbled continually into Hagrid's pillows.

When the tea was ready, he propped her up in bed, the quilt pulled up underneath her chin. 

"I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold," she whispered, obediently sipping at her tea as Hagrid brought the cup to her lips. Drowsiness overtook her as the tea spread its warmth to her insides. She slid down into the feather mattress, still shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm cold."

Hagrid slid into the bed beside her. As much as he told himself it was better for them to remain apart, he couldn't let her lie there, unable to get warm. He'd nearly passed right by her, in the woods. If Fang hadn't noticed her hand in the snow.... He shuddered to think what had almost happened. Maybe he'd said goodbye to a life with Ivy as his future, but... tears came to his eyes when he remembered feeling for a pulse as he'd dragged her stiff, cold body out of the snow.

Ivy muttered something in her sleep, and Hagrid pulled her against him.

"I'm cold."

"Lemme warm yeh up," he said softly, cradling her against him.

"Why'd you stop loving me, Hagrid?" she asked, eyes closing slowly.

He grunted a little, then kissed the top of her head. "Never said I stopped lovin' yeh, Ivy."

He held her against him as the night wind howled. Snow began to swirl outside again, even as Ivy's tremors lessened. She relaxed, pressing her cheek against his chest. The roaring fire and Hagrid's body heat slowly worked their magic. Ivy's temperature gradually returned to normal, and she slept soundly in the giant's arms.


	23. Going Home

Sunshine bathing her face through Hagrid's mullioned window woke Ivy the next day. She blinked against its brightness, taking a moment to figure out where she was. It didn't take long for her memories to come flooding back. First her father had showed up. She remembered looking down into the gaping hole that once had been her basement, then falling in the stream. She'd nearly frozen to death in the forbidden forest. And Hagrid had rescued her. Hagrid. She was still wrapped in his arms. Slipping out of his embrace, she turned to face him. He was snoring gently, moustache fluttering with every breath. Ivy's heart swelled with love for him as she studied his features. She sat beside him for nearly an hour, cross-legged on the patchwork quilt, leaning forward to caress the place where his beard began to sprout on his cheeks, then pulling back for fear she would wake him. She didn't want to wake him, didn't want to be dragged out the back door and sent on her way, like she had been last time. So she sat. And watched over the one who owned her heart. 

He woke with a start, just as she'd worked up the nerve to allow her fingers into his beard. She pulled back in surprise when his eyes flew open. They were still full of worry, until they saw Ivy sitting by his side. 

"Yeh a'right, then, Ivy?" he asked groggily, clearing his throat.

Ivy nodded, watching his eyes as they slid down her neck to the shoulder exposed by her nightshirt's droopy collar. 

"You saved my life again," she murmured.

Hagrid closed his eyes and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Ivy imagined herself slipping back under the covers beside him, thanking him properly for pulling her out of the snow bank. Her eyes closed and a sigh escaped her, but she held back, still determined to hang on to this moment, sure any sudden moves would remind Hagrid that he didn't love her. Then he'd send her away again. She knew her heart wouldn't endure it.

Finally Hagrid spoke up. "I'll take yeh back teh Hogsmeade, when yer ready."

"When I'm ready?" Ivy gave a soft little laugh. "Then go back to sleep. I'll never be ready. I want to stay right where I am."

Hagrid turned to look at her. "I tol' yeh before Ivy...."

"I know. You don't love me anymore. I didn't forget. You said there's something you can't put me through. Is it worse than what I'm going through right now? If I've lost you, then I've lost everything."

He sighed and rolled away from her, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"Don't go," Ivy whispered. She maneuvered herself behind him, bringing her hands up to massage his massive shoulders. He sighed heavily at her touch, then turned to grab her hands. 

"It won't work," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I can't let yeh stay here wi' me. I tole yeh once a'ready."

She gave a high laugh, pulling her hands out of his grasp. "Yes, I remember. Everything's better off with its own kind. You told me that a long time ago. Only you're a hypocrite. You didn't stay with the giants."

"It's because a the giants I have ter let yeh go," Hagrid shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "It's better'n me hurtin' yeh later."

"What? Hurting me now?" she pushed.

"Yeh can't unn'erstan' this Ivy. I seen what I could become, an' yer better off wi'out me."

"Better off believing pigs don't fly?"

He gave her a funny look.

"When we first met and you told me about the hippogriffs, remember? I told you the Muggle version of how they came to be. '_Jungentur jam grypes equis'. _To cross griffins with horses. An impossibility. Like when pigs fly. Or when Squibs live among magical people. Only I've seen a hippogriff, Hagrid. You talked me into riding one. And I really believed -"

The noise of someone pounding on the door interrupted Ivy's speech. She sank into the corner, pulling the nightshirt up over her shoulder. The pounding came again, ever more insistent.

"It's him," Ivy managed in a very small voice. "He's come to get me. To send me away. Please, Hagrid. Please. Let me stay here with you."

Hagrid rose silently to his feet and pulled a shirt on.

"If he takes me away I can never come back," Ivy pleaded. "I'll never see you again."

"An' that's fer the best," Hagrid told the far wall, resolutely.

"I don't believe you." Ivy began shaking again. Only this time her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Now voices could be heard outside the door, demanding to be allowed inside. She could hear her father and great-grandfather calling out her name.

"I'm lettin' em in," Hagrid croaked. "Yeh best be gettin' dressed."

Ivy felt as though she'd been hit by a freight train. She'd come to her most desperate hour, and the one she loved most in the world was deserting her. Nearly as numb as she'd been when Hagrid dragged her out of the snow, she bent to gather up her clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Within the hour she boarded a magical coach and set off for London with Augustus and her Gray-Grand. By nightfall she and all her belongings were tucked away in a third floor bedroom in the Ollivander mansion. But it had only taken one moment of silence from Hagrid to seal her heart in ice even while it beat frantically in her chest. That one moment, when she'd stood between him and her father. Augustus had asked her to come home, and Hagrid hadn't asked her to stay. Amazingly, she managed to remain dry-eyed through the whole episode. Even when she'd planted one last kiss on Hagrid's shaggy cheek. Even as she'd inhaled his scent to memorize forever. 

Tears came later, as she sank into her childhood bed. They accompanied her as she reacquainted herself with her home. They frequently interrupted her meals, conversations and sleep, stealing down her cheeks when she least expected them. She lost weight. Dark smudges appeared under her eyes. And every day she waited. Waited for the moment her father would present her with another one way ticket to live among Muggles. She knew he'd bring the subject up every time he entered a room, but as weeks turned into a month and he hadn't mentioned it, she began to wonder what sort of future he had planned for her.

In a delayed reaction to her bout with hypothermia, Ivy came down with a terrible head cold. She took to her bed, surprised when her father took over her care, bringing her soup and magazines to read. He even took out a subscription to the _Daily Prophet _and had it delivered to her window every morning. 

Without meaning to, Ivy began to look forward to his visits. While she sat propped in her bed, sneezing and blowing her nose, he read to her. Whether it was the newspaper or letters from Rosmerta or Professor Dumbledore, it didn't seem to matter. He insisted on staying with her, to the point that one afternoon she finally asked him why.

"Making up for lost time, reckon," he told her. Their eyes locked for a long moment. "Ivy..." he began. He struggled as he tried to continue.

"There's so much I need to say to you. But I'm afraid."

"So am I," Ivy admitted, picking nervously at her blankets. 

"You're afraid?" Augustus asked. "Of what?"

"You are planning on sending me off again, aren't you?" she asked in a hollow voice. "I'm just a little nervous about where I'm headed this time. You tried the States, Australia.... What's next?"

Augustus covered his face with one hand, reaching for his daughter with the other. "I have no plans to send you away from me again," he muttered, rubbing his brow.

Ivy bent to peer at him. "You're crying...."

"I have a lot to apologize for," he said, wiping his eyes. "It's time for us to be honest with each other, Ivy. When I learned that you'd been in hiding for nearly four years.... Hiding from me."

"I tried very hard to keep my condition a secret, Father," she told him matter-of-factly. "I did my best to keep our name clean."

Augustus gave her a funny look. 

"I thought that was why you sent me away," Ivy explained.

"I sent you away to protect you," Augustus insisted. "From You-Know-Who."

"Because I'm a Squib...."

"Ivy," Augustus stopped her. He raked a hand through his hair. Ivy could sense the struggle going on inside him. He seemed to want to tell her something, but lacked the power to do it. 

"I sent you away because I knew I couldn't protect you. Haven't you ever wondered why I haven't gone into the family business? Why I left that to your mother? Why do you think I work in the Muggle Artifacts department with Arthur Weasley? Not because _you're_ a Squib, Ivy. Because I am."

A small gasp escaped Ivy's chest as she studied her father. 

"You can't be..." she murmured in disbelief. "You went to Hogwarts. That's where you met Mum. You've got magic...."

"I barely made it through Hogwarts. If Elana hadn't helped me with my studies...."

Ivy looked at her father in a brand new light. 

"That's why your mother went along with me sending you away. To keep _my_ secret. Not yours."

"Well. At least you didn't kill her." 

Augustus Ollivander studied his daughter for a long moment. The longer he stared at her, the more she began to wonder if perhaps he didn't believe her.

"That was my honor, remember?"

Augustus shook his head. "I remember things a bit differently, I guess. Would you like to see her things?"

Ivy nodded. 

"Everything's been kept in the attic," Augustus said as Ivy threw off her blankets. "I have to warn you though, we're haunted."

Ivy laughed. "Haunted?"

"It's not a joke," he insisted. "The whole place is... well. You know."

"Ghosts? Really, Father?"

Augustus led her out of her room and up a vast staircase. Looking back, he continued. "The attic especially. I don't really stay here that much anymore. I've a cot in my office...."

"It's that bad?" Ivy asked, amazed. She knew that ghosts roamed the grounds of Hogwarts freely, but had never come face to face with one.

Augustus gave a short laugh. "Ghosts aren't the only thing haunting this old place," he admitted. "Memories are much worse than ghosts when you're here by yourself, believe me."

They turned down a carpeted hallway, where he pulled open a narrow wooden door. An even narrower staircase led upward, turned right, then up again. Ivy began to sneeze three steps from the top landing. Dust and cobwebs made it hard for her to breathe. She leaned forward, clutching the back of her father's robes as he pushed open another small door. 

Light filtered through cracks in the walls and ceiling, here. They striped the floor with bars of silver. As Ivy's eyes adjusted to their dim surroundings, she began to notice shapes. There were wardrobes and trunks, and odd shapes covered with sheets. Pieces of antique furniture; mirrors, headboards and mismatched chairs stood like casually dispatched sentries, all over the little room. Augustus reached for a ring of keys that hung on a peg on the back of the door. Selecting a key, he bent and opened one of the larger trunks.

The scent of musty fabric and dust assaulted Ivy's already distressed respiratory system. She sneezed, causing a fresh puff of dust to rise from the trunk lid.

"Are those Mum's dresses?" she asked, wiping her nose.

Augustus nodded. He drew a heavy hunter green traveling robe off the top of the stack. It was done in crushed velvet and embellished with a pattern of English roses.

"Beautiful," Ivy breathed.

"This is all hers," Augustus said. "I didn't feel right getting rid of anything. Not until you could look...."

Ivy looked up at him. He'd changed since the last time she'd seen him. He was no longer the portly, cold-eyed man she remembered from when she was a child. He'd lost weight, for one thing, and it seemed to Ivy that he'd shrunken somewhat. When she looked into his eyes now, they were open, and hopeful. As she studied him, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Ivy," he said, in a sudden display of emotion. "But at least, if you can't stay here, don't feel as though you have to hide from me. I...." He couldn't go on.

"Father," Ivy murmured, placing a hand on his arm. "There are things I need forgiveness for, too. If I hadn't been so cruel the last time I was here, you might've at least had Elana all these years."

"You're not responsible for the death of your mother, Ivy. That I know for certain. I was here. I watched her fade away knowing it was _my_ fault. I broke her heart when I sent you away, but I was too stubborn.... Too prideful to admit it. All that mattered was the Ollivander name. No one could know that you were a .... " He stopped, unwilling to brand his daughter with such a shameful label. 

"If they found about you, they'd find out about me, and I could not have that. Do you know how much mechanization I've been through, just to keep my secret?"

Ivy laughed. "That's one thing we have in common. One more thing, I suppose." She sat down on a trunk and wiped at her nose with a tissue. "Let's see. We both blame ourselves for Mother's passing. We're both... you know," she managed a smile. "And we're both alone."

"Not any more," Augustus said. "You can stay here as long as you want to, Ivy. This is your home, not just mine. I hope you'll stay. At least long enough for me to show you I've changed. I'm not someone you have to hide from, anymore."

Ivy sighed. There was much for her to think about. Sensing this, Augustus bowed. 

"I'm going to go on downstairs for a while. These things are better explored alone, at first." He spread his arms out, indicating the trunks and trappings that surrounded them. "See you for tea?"

Ivy nodded. "Or sooner, if the ghost shows up," she joked.

"All right then." Augustus kissed the top of his daughter's head, then disappeared through the door. Ivy began sorting through the open trunk. None of her mother's clothes were familiar.

"You should look in that wardrobe," Ivy heard a voice speak inside her head. At least it seemed as though that's where it came from. There was no one else around who could have spoken.

"Ghosts," Ivy shuddered, pulling open the wardrobe door. A doll fell out, landing with a thud at Ivy's feet.

"Now _you _I remember," she exclaimed, bending down to scoop the doll off the floor. It was a blonde, with blue eyes that opened and closed. She had a tiny wooden wand clutched in one hand, a miniature broomstick in the other. Ivy positioned it carefully on top of the wardrobe. Peering inside, she saw a row of little frilly dresses. Satins and silks, each decorated with yards of lace. There were blue ones and burgundies, lavenders and pinks. Ivy gasped when she realized whose they were.

"These are all mine." 

She pulled one out and held it up to herself. It was a rust and rose colored ensemble she remembered wearing on many occasions. 

"You wore that one when we saw Charlie Weasley off to Hogwarts, remember?"

Ivy whirled around, and then she saw it. Or rather, saw her. The Ghost that haunted The Mansion. Elana Ollivander.

"Mum!" Ivy exclaimed, dropping the dress. She took a step forward before realizing that the woman before her was an apparition.

"Ivy," Elana smiled. "I've been waiting for you to get here. What took you so long?"

"I...." Ivy faltered. "I didn't know."

Elana gave a laugh, and the sound of it flooded her daughter with memories. "My baby," the silver specter whispered.

"So it's _you_ who's been haunting this place," Ivy grinned. "I expect Father doesn't know that."

"I'm not really here to see Augustus," Elana admitted. "I had all the time I needed to finish my business with him. But not with you, my little Ivy. Unfinished business. That's all that keeps me here, really."

"Mama," Ivy managed, gazing up at the ghost. Even in death her mother was as full of life as Ivy remembered. "I'm so sorry for all those things I said to you that last day. I never, ever thought they'd make you...." She caught her breath, afraid to go on.

"You did not make me _die_, Ivy Elizabeth." Elana Ollivander's ghost stomped her foot, in a gesture that anyone who'd known Ivy for long would have found familiar. 

"Augustus didn't make me die. I died because something went wrong. Something inside. Something no doctor or wizard has yet learned to fix. I've learned a few things about death since last I saw you, love. And one of those things is that we're all appointed a day to _die_. If you had been here, if you had been the most magical witch this side of history, my day would have remained the same. You're day is appointed, too, although I hope it's in the very distant future. And I will remain here, on this side, until you decide to believe that. You're my unfinished business, Ivy. I can't leave here until I know that you know it wasn't your fault."

Ivy's eyes welled up with tears. "But I should never have told you those things."

"I should never have let Augustus send you away."

"He said he wanted to protect me."

"Ivy," Elana stopped her. "Protect you from what? I think we've all learned we could have withstood anything, together, as a family. We just learned it too late. But if we truly understand, we won't repeat the mistake again. Heaven knows we've all paid the price for our lessons. Now tell me.... What about you? Your life, love. Have you given your heart to someone? Any plans to continue our family?"

Ivy gave a little smile, but shook her head. "Not yet."

"No one?" Elana pressed.

"Well, I...." She thought about Hagrid, and realized that in pushing her away from him, he was making the same mistake her family had made. Not understanding that together they were stronger than any adversity that came their way. She wondered if a conversation with a ghost could change his mind, and a new light of hope found its old place in Ivy's eyes.

"Do you remember Hogwart's Gamekeeper? Rubeus Hagrid?"

Elana swooped closer to her daughter. "Rubeus?" she grinned. "Oh, Ivy. You always were drawn to things larger than life. I thought you and Charlie would make such a good match, though. Too bad for Molly."

Ivy spent the rest of the afternoon with her mother. As the room darkened, torches magically sputtered to life around the room. Together, Ivy and Elana dug through every trunk, uncovered every piece of furniture, examined every portrait in the attic. And as night bloomed, and the room turned chill, Ivy knew her time with Elana was drawing to a close. Her mother had given her the most precious of gifts in their afternoon together. Forgiveness. And now Ivy knew it was time to let her mother go.

"How's Gray-Grand, Ivy?" Elana asked.

"He's as wonderful as always. He bought me a house in Hogsmeade. But turned out I couldn't keep it. They tore it down, but I still have this." She reached into the pocket of her dressing gown and pulled out the piece of wallpaper Charlie had conjured for her bedroom, so long ago. 

"It's lovely," Elana smiled. She reached out and ran her hand through Ivy's hair. Although Ivy couldn't feel her touch, she did sense a strange cold thrill go through her.

"I love you, Mama," she whispered. "Thank you so much for today."

"Little girls shouldn't have to carry such heavy, heavy burdens," Elana spoke. "I'm very glad I waited. And now _our_ business is finished." 

The cold sensation passed through Ivy again as her mother's ghost embraced her.

"Will I ever see you again, Mum?" Ivy asked, wiping her eyes.

"Yes!" Elana crowed, floating toward the ceiling. "I do believe you will." Then she swept through the air, through the trunks, through Ivy. "Look in their eyes and you'll see me, sweet Ivy. The little ones. And name the second after me."

And then she was gone, swept up through the roof with a great puff of wind that blew Ivy's hair about her face. And Ivy turned and fled the attic, bursting with the excitement of telling her father why she hadn't shown up for tea.


	24. When Griffins Mate With Horses

"Hagrid, may I have a moment?"

The half-giant stopped and turned to Professor Dumbledore. He was halfway between the castle and his cabin, when the Headmaster caught him.

"Course, Sir," Hagrid said, wrapping his hands around his belt. "Wan' ter come inside fer a cuppa?'

Dumbledore gave a half nod, and Hagrid started toward his hut. He hadn't had any guests in a while. Hadn't really encouraged anybody coming over. As he lumbered across the grounds he wondered if he even had any tea left in his cupboards. Lately he'd been leaning toward the harder stuff.

As the two of them settled across Hagrid's scrubbed wood table, Professor Dumbledore spoke his mind.

"I am a bit worried, Hagrid. About several things. First and foremost being the need for a teacher for our Muggle Studies class. Ms. Ollivander won't hear of taking the position. Says she wouldn't want to make any of our other instructors 'uncomfortable.' I thought perhaps she meant that she was worried about what happened in Hogsmeade during the winter, but now I have begun to wonder. Would _you_ be uncomfortable having Ivy Ollivander on this campus?"

"Ivy can do as she pleases, reckon," Hagrid muttered, carefully avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. 

"Noted," Dumbledore mused, moustache twitching.

"One other thing. Your class this year.... Augureys, garden imps, gnomes. Hagrid, something seems to be missing. Your lack of enthusiasm for the job has left me puzzled. What happened to the teacher who was bold enough to bring hippogriffs in for his very first class?"

"Nuthin' happ'ned, Professor. Thought the garden imps might turn a profit fer the firs' years. The Augureys were -"

Dumbledore cut him off. "Boring and unimaginative, weren't they?"

"They tell the weather. Mos' a the kids foun' 'em interestin'."

"May I ask what you have decided on for next year?"

"Well, I...." Hagrid faltered. "I was thinkin' a takin' a leave a absence fer nex' year, teh tell yeh the truth. Yeh could have yer Professor a' Muggle Studies.... If I weren't aroun'."

Dumbledore's eyebrows arched in surprise. "A leave of absence? Hagrid, why?"

"Got some thinkin' ter do mostly."

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "That's very important. Thinking. May I ask what you will be thinking about?"

Hagrid sighed, sitting back in his chair. He eyed Dumbledore for a very long time without answering.

"If I may be so bold," the headmaster began. "I understand that your trip north to recruit the giants has somehow changed you. This change has effected your work. You've pushed those who love you away. I'm not here to reprimand you, Hagrid. I'm here as a friend. We've always been honest with each other."

"We have, that," Hagrid agreed.

"What would you say to one more trip north? When do those wild hippogriffs lay their eggs, do you think?"

"Prob'ly layin' now," Hagrid murmured, a whisper of inspiration fluttering through him like a warm spring breeze. 

"You could announce early examinations, finish them up this week."

"Don' think the Gov'ners'd take kindly ter me bringin' in a new batch a hippogriffs."

"Hatchlings, Hagrid. I don't see how they could object to hatchlings. And one more thing. I found this brochure. Thought it might interest you. These creatures could definitely bring a breath of fresh air to Care of Magical Creatures Class. Don't you agree?"

Hagrid looked down at the brochure. The picture on the front cover brought a grunt from deep in his throat, and a tear to his eye. "Yeh think gettin' summat like this would...?"

"I believe it's worth some serious thought on your part, my friend." Dumbledore patted Hagrid's hand in a fatherly fashion. "They would definitely cause a stir."

"But what about the giants, Sir? An' You-Know-Who comin' back ter power?"

Dumbledore understood, and tried to reassure him. "Hagrid, ancestry has nothing at all to do with who and what we become. It's our job to make sure we bring the best of our generation into the next. Hopefully we leave the worst behind. And in that way we leave the world a better place. We strive to be the best that we can be, and believe those who love us will continue to do so, even during those moments when we are at our worst. 

"As for Voldemort coming back to power," he continued. "Love is a powerful magic, Hagrid, And most fearsome when provoked. Such a force can only make us stronger when dangers arise."

"Ivy," Hagrid breathed.

"We could certainly use her here at Hogwarts next year," Dumbledore pressed. "But I leave that to be decided by the two of you."

Hagrid nodded, picking up the brochure once again to examine it more closely. Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.

"Well, then," he said resting a hand on Hagrid's arm. "Shall we schedule early exams? And an expedition north?"

"Never thought I'd wanna head in that direction again," Hagrid grinned ruefully.

Dumbledore's eyes glittered. "Perhaps you will get your thinking done along the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I thought I'd find you here," Augustus Ollivander's voice cut through the still morning air. It was barely dawn, and Ivy stood in the fourth floor observatory, star gazing. She'd been tracking the paths of Mars and Saturn for weeks, with the help of her father's powerful telescopes. 

"Good morning," she greeted him. "Looks like another fine day."

Augustus nodded his agreement, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She knew he didn't understand her need to watch the heavens, but she was grateful that did his best to ease her sadness whenever she did so.

"You've had some packages arrive," he told her. "Thought you'd like to know. We don't get a lot of Muggle post around here. I had no idea they delivered so early."

"Muggle post?" Ivy gave him a puzzled look, then it brightened into understanding. "My things from Melbourne!" she announced. "They're downstairs?"

"Yes," Augustus assured her. "You paid quite a price to get it all back. Must be important."

"My books," Ivy explained, pulling out of his embrace to take his hand and lead him to the stairs. "Things I thought I'd need for the Muggle Studies position. Before...." Her voice trailed away.

"Before I showed up and ruined things in Hogsmeade?"

Ivy laughed, skipping the last two steps on the second floor landing. "I did a bang up job ruining things in Hogsmeade long before you got there, Father." She dropped his hand as they continued downstairs, heading toward a group of boxes and trunks in the entranceway.

Memories of her years teaching mythology flooded her senses as she tore into the first box. It wasn't until she attacked the second that something stamped on the post marks caught her eye.

"What day is it, Father?" she asked, running a hand along the seal of Australia. 

"It's the second of June. Just barely."

Ivy sat down heavily on the nearest trunk, smacking her forehead with her hand.

"I've got to go and fetch Harry."

"Harry who?" Augustus asked, beckoning the house elves forward. The Muggle appearance of Ivy's delivery had frightened them away from it.

"Harry Potter," Ivy said. "It's a long story, but I'll tell you the whole thing on the way to Surrey. That is, if you can get away and come with me."

Augustus sighed. It wasn't fair how much like Elana Ivy had become. When she gave him that look of invitation, how the memories filled him. He'd never been able to resist Elana, and found it just as impossible now to say no to his daughter.

"I was scheduled to come in to work today, but...."

"Won't Arthur cover for you, just this one time?" Ivy whined. If there was anything she dreaded it was seeing the Dursleys again. Having her father in the car with her would be a great excuse for them to leave quickly.

"And just how long will we be entertaining Harry Potter?" Augustus asked her. He did have a few pressing matters at the office, but if a trip to Surrey would get Ivy out of the observatory for a while.... He flashed her a smile. 

"Don't worry," Ivy said, watching the house elves approach her packages warily. "I doubt it'll be the whole summer. He'll want to visit the Weasleys. And of course there'll be a trip to Diagon Alley when he gets his letter from Hogwarts. But we need to hurry on. He'll be waiting."

Augustus nodded. "All right then, I'll run and get the car."

Ivy grinned and threw her arms around his neck. Since the visit with Elana's ghost, she'd had no problem forgiving and loving her father again. And no problem letting him know he was loved. When he'd left the room, she knelt before the house elves. 

"Don't worry about these things right now," she said, to their obvious relief. "Run and get a picnic basket ready for Father and me, will you?" 

The eldest, a venerable elf named Ferdie, bowed low before her. "We is at your service as always, Mistress Ollivander." The two elves behind him, his daughters, nodded vigorously, and Ivy grinned. They reminded her of Willa. 

"Thanks," she told them. "And I'll be sure to leave something extra special out for the three of you before I go to bed tonight. We're having a guest at the mansion for the summer. My friend, Harry Potter."

The two younger elves covered their mouths to stifle shy giggles, then the three of them turned and disappeared. Ivy followed then into the kitchen.

"Don't forget to pack something extra for Harry on the trip back."

Ferdie nodded and shooed her out of the kitchen, muttering something about being able to do his job without anybody's help. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy needn't have worried about facing the Dursleys. When she and her father got to Privet Drive, they found Harry waiting on the doorstep. Number 4 was empty, with only a tiny little note tacked on the door that said 'Gone to the seaside.' 

Augustus helped Harry with his trunks and Hedwig.

"All right there, Harry?" Ivy asked, grinning from ear to ear. Harry nodded and handed her a long white envelope.

"It's from Uncle Vernon. Probably a bunch of legal junk saying he's not responsible for me anymore."

"You wish," Ivy said, opening the envelope. "Oh.... Where are my manners. Harry, this is my father, Augustus Ollivander. Dad, Harry Potter."

Augustus shook Harry's hand, amazed at the transformation he saw in his daughter. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

"And you as well," Harry returned. 

They all stood around for an awkward moment, then Ivy threw open the car door. "All right then, get in. Let's go home."

Augustus slid behind the wheel, and Harry climbed in the back with Hedwig.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The Ollivander family place," Ivy told him. "I've been there since.... Well, since January." She reached over and patted her father's shoulder. "Dad and I have been getting reacquainted."

Harry nodded and settled back in his seat. 

"You look tired," Ivy offered studying him from the front seat. "You weren't out there waiting all night...?"

Harry shrugged. "Smeltings must have gotten out earlier than Hogwarts. But don't worry, it was a warm night."

"Harry! They didn't."

Harry leaned forward. "I knew you were coming. Trust me, a night on the front step without Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia was worth every minute."

Ivy flopped against her seat, enraged.

"You should have sent me an owl."

"I didn't know where to find you. Besides, you would have crossed it in the mail anyway."

For a few moments, silence filled the automobile. Then Ivy turned around asked. "Heard from Blackie?"

Harry shook his head. "Not since Christmas."

"And how is Hagrid?"

"He started acting real funny after the blizzard. Wouldn't talk to anybody. Not even me. Hermione's the only one who got anything out of him. He scheduled early exams for his classes and... well...." Ivy could tell he was holding something back.

"Well?" she asked in a small voice.

"I don't know all the details. I'm sure he'll be back for next year."

"Be back?" Ivy asked, incredulous. "Where did he go?"

"Don't know," Harry admitted. "All I know is he left Hogwarts. About a month ago."

"He left?" Ivy asked, heart sinking. "But why? Did it have something to do with the giants up north?"

Harry shrugged. 

"Perhaps you could ask Professor Dumbledore," Augustus spoke up. "He's coming over for tea next Friday. Said he had something important to tell you, Ivy. Maybe it's about Hagrid."

"Maybe," Ivy's view of the road blurred as she wondered what could have possibly driven Hagrid from Hogwarts. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hippogriffs. They like to hide in the foothills, especially when the females are nestin'." Olaf Hedstrom yanked up his fur-lined boots and tightened down their straps. "There's still some late snow up there, though. We're gonna have to have provisions."

"Got ever'thin' I need righ' here," Hagrid told him, patting down the pockets of his coat.

"Right then. If you're ready, we'll off."

"Ready," Hagrid said. He wasn't sure what he was ready for, but like Dumbledore said, at least he could get some thinking done hiking the foothills. And maybe bring home some hippogriff eggs, to boot. Olaf, his guide, set the pace, and they covered quite a bit of ground. Hagrid decided that Olaf must be at least part giant. He was a big man, so Hagrid wasn't slowed down.

Spring came later to places this far north. Although it was nearing mid-June, crocus and daffodils were just raising their heads. Game was plentiful everywhere, as the native wildlife shook off the deep sleep of winter to play in spring's sun. Hagrid's pace doubled when he noticed an increase of fawns. Whether they were elk, moose, or deer, they made him worry that this year's hippogriffs would hatch before he could get to them. As far as he could figure, he was nearly a month earlier than he and Maxime had been last year.

Stepping over a trickling stream, Hagrid shook his great shaggy mane. Had it only been a year since he'd roamed this way, hoping to gather a few hippogriff eggs? He remembered Maxime's near-hysteria at the thought of the herd taking flight. She'd glossed it over later. Joked that she hadn't wanted them to mess up her hair, but Hagrid had seen straight through her. His thoughts led him back to the day he'd coaxed Ivy down to the train station to see those hippogriffs come in. She'd been nervous, sure, but she hadn't run, screaming. She'd faced the beast. Conquered it. And gave him the credit for it later.

Hagrid grunted from deep in the back of his throat. It was best not to let his thoughts dwell on Ivy Ollivander. Even if Professor Dumbledore was bent on seeing them together. That was the reason for the brochure the headmaster had left on Hagrid's kitchen table. Course, Dumbledore would profit if Ivy came back to Hogwarts. Then he wouldn't have to go search down another teacher for Muggle Studies.   


"Flyin' pigs," he muttered. Then he pressed on, pushing Olaf even faster than before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivy looked down at the box in her hand, still not quite sure what she had been given.

"My wand?" she asked tentatively, glancing from her father to Professor Dumbledore and back again.

"Technically, it first belonged to your mother," Dumbledore confessed. "Your Great-Grandfather and I... " He stopped, shook his head, and patted her hand. "That is a story better left for another time."

Ivy fingered the slender wooden wand, but didn't dare pick it up. She'd buried the part of herself that longed to be magical, and believed it best kept that way. Then she looked back at Professor Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry. I don't -"

"Zachary Zonko switched wands with you the night of your magic test," Dumbledore continued. "He wanted to win his case against you. And he went to great lengths to do it."

"No greater lengths than I did," Ivy reminded, remembering the daily potions and Kwickspell lessons. "He cheated, I cheated. Looks like both of us lose."

"Ivy," Dumbledore spoke gently. "How can I explain this to you? There are varying degrees of magic in all of us. And there is no rule that says you cannot magnify what power you have. What Zonko did, however...."

"Was mean, low down and dirty."

Ivy looked up as Harry flashed her a grin.

"Exactly," Dumbledore agreed, eyes alight. "I have spoken to the authorities. And the Zonkos. In return for your silence on this disgraceful matter, they have agreed to return your house to you. Or at least the land where it once stood. They will not dispute your right to live in Hogsmeade."

"They can't erase what everybody saw," Ivy spoke bitterly.

"True.... True, Ivy. They can't. But, as a resident of Hogsmeade for nearly four years, surely you know how rumors fly. A word or two dropped into the right ear...."

Ivy sighed, and dropped the box containing her mother's wand on the table beside her. Going back to Hogsmeade was far too painful to think about, anyway. How could she ever go back to where her house once stood? It was too close to the forest path. Too close to Hagrid. And if he didn't want her in Hogsmeade....

She looked up. They were all staring at her, waiting. Dumbledore, Harry, her father. She couldn't pick up the wand again. Couldn't go back to Hogsmeade. That chapter in her life was over. Life was easier believing pigs couldn't fly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They're fierce mothers, nestin' hippogriffs," Olaf whispered as he and Hagrid watched a stand off between a huge red griffin and male and female hippogriff. The griffin didn't stand a chance against the two of them. It took to the air as fast as its wings could carry it, after a few slashes from the female hippogriff's beak. 

"The da's too," Olaf continued, as the female began to preen. "They take their turns guardin' the nest. You're gonna have your work cut out for ya."

Hagrid wasn't listening. He was too busy watching the raw power displayed as the beasts protected their family. This was the third nest they'd come upon, and each had been the same. It would take nothing short of a miracle to get past these creatures. As he'd seen with the griffin, the mother and father hippogriff were ready to lay down their lives for their unhatched eggs. 

"Look there," Olaf muttered. The griffin was back, with reinforcements. Now two giant griffins faced the nesting hippogriff and her mate. The male rose into the air immediately, drawing attention away from the nest with earth-shattering cries. Hidden in a group of boulders just downwind, Hagrid's grip on his crossbow tightened.

The male hippogriff, a gray that reminded him of Buckbeak, slashed at the griffins from above. The female hunkered down on her eggs, flipping her head this way and that, amber eyes flashing. She sliced at the air with her beak whenever her attacker got too close. 

As Hagrid watched, the male made a near-successful attempt to pick up one of the griffins and carry it off. But the beast was too heavy. The hippogriff managed to fly a few hundred feet, then both griffin and hippogriff fell to the ground. 

The female rose to her feet then, letting out a screech that made Hagrid cover his ears. The male hippogriff and the griffin were now a blurred tangle of red and gray. The griffin roared in anger. The hippogriff screeched its taunting reply. When they separated, the male hippogriff stood splay-footed, panting, one wing arched toward the sky, one dangling uselessly downward. Hagrid watched in amazement as the female hippogriff, a glittering black, exploded into the air. She flew right at the wounded griffin, bowling him over. The other griffin, sensing his opportunity, headed for the nest.

"Not this time," Hagrid muttered. Standing to his feet, he advanced, watching the griffin with one eye, and the hippogriffs with the other. The griffin stood upright, challenging Hagrid, while the female hippogriff finished off its partner. Then the male hippogriff sank to its knees. The female raised her beak to the sky and bellowed, flying to where her mate had fallen. 

"Stupify!" Hagrid bellowed, aiming his wand-embedded umbrella at the remaining griffin. The beast shuddered. Its eyes rolled back in its head, and it toppled over helplessly.

"There's your eggs," Olaf said, as the dust settled. He headed toward the nest with no sign of fear. "No need to worry. She won't leave his side. Just you watch. She'll sacrifice everything for her mate. Even her future."

It took a minute, but Olaf's words pierced Hagrid's heart like a knife. They reverberated in his head as their full meaning exploded inside him.

__

She'll sacrifice anything for her mate. Even her future.

__

Even her future.

Even her future. 

He and Olaf collected the abandoned eggs in silence. Then they headed back to camp, but not before Hagrid turned for one last look at the hippogriffs. The female stood at attention, beak gently nudging her mate one minute, raised to the sky in anguish the next. She turned and looked at Hagrid, the fierce light in her amber eyes now clouded with fear and confusion. She screeched at him impotently, unwilling to leave the side of her dying mate, even to protect her eggs.

__

She'll sacrifice anything. Even her future.

Talons churning the ground underneath her, she turned away from Hagrid, doing her best to offer comfort to her mate.

"It's a good take," Olaf said later, as they lay the eggs gently on a bed of dying coals.

"What do ya got there, five?"

"Seven," Hagrid said, still pulling gold and black speckled eggs out of his pockets.

"Got three here," Olaf announced. "That makes 10. What.... Five for you, and five for me?"

"Five fer you," Hagrid nodded grimly, sorting out the eggs into groups. "Four fer me. An' one fer Ivy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Happy Birthday!"

The Ollivander garden exploded with the cheer. It was Harry's 16th birthday, and Ivy, along with Hermione and Ginny Weasley, had planned a massive party, inviting everybody they could think of. The gift table overflowed with presents, the mansion overflowed with people. 

One of the best moments of the day occurred when Remus and Rose Lupin showed up. Rose was definitely glowing, and when her whispered confidence in Ivy's ear confirmed all suspicions, Ivy crowed in delight.

"A baby! When's it due?" she whispered back, barely able to contain her excitement.

"January," Rose returned. "And I don't know why we're whispering. I think the proud papa is spreading the news all over the place, even as we speak."

"Rosie...." Ivy said, turning to watch as Remus received several enthusiastic pats on the back. "This is the most wonderful news. I couldn't be happier for you." She hugged her friend fiercely.

"You will be his godmother, won't you?" Rosie asked.

"What if it's a girl?" Ivy returned. Her heart swelled at the opportunity to banter with her big sister again. 

"She'll still need a godmother."

"I would be honored," Ivy said seriously. "And who will the god_father _be?"

Rosie winked. "That has yet to be decided." She threw her arm around Ivy and they strolled through the garden, stopping here and there to greet old friends. 

Harry had barely blown out the candles on his three-tiered cake when a chubby pink creature flew over the garden. Several of the guests cried out in surprise. Many applauded, thinking the animal just another part of the day's festivities.

Ivy, who was busy serving cake, didn't notice it until its third pass over the flower beds. It flew low, squealing and grunting, obviously looking for a place to land. Molly Weasley shrieked at it, waving her hands to ward it off as it flew too close. It disappeared around the front of the house then. The next time it appeared, its flapping had slowed considerably, and its altitude had lowered, while its squeals increased in urgency and volume. Ivy heard several people remark on it.

"Look, it's a pig!" Ron said, grinning.

"A pig?" his sister Ginny scoffed. "Pigs don't fly."

Her comment turned Ivy's blood to ice. She turned to give the oblong pink torpedo a better look. She needn't have worried about getting closer. The thing flew straight at her, hitting her square in the chest and knocking her off her feet. Then it planted each of its four feet on her chest, gazing down at her apologetically.

"It _is_ a flying pig!" Hermione said, rushing forward. She knelt at Ivy's side, and soon all the party guests surrounded them, chattering. Ivy let her head drop back to the grass. She closed her eyes, opening them only to wonder who would play such a horrible joke on her.

"What's a matter, here? Never see a flyin' pig b'fore?"

A shuddering thrill went through Ivy. She pushed the pig off her chest and sat up in the grass.

"Hagrid," she managed a whisper.

"Nobody tole me yeh were havin' a party. Min' yeh, I bin outa the country fer a spell. Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry, who'd been staring at Hagrid openly, managed a grin. "Thanks, Hagrid."

With that, the party went back to normal, and everyone relaxed. Everyone, that is, except Ivy. The pig had taken a liking to her. It rooted its rubbery nose up under her arm, grunting contentedly. 

"Reckon that's mine," Hagrid said, approaching warily. He reached for the pig, who squealed loudly and ran behind Ivy's back. Ivy scrambled to her feet, dusting off and backing away from Hagrid.

"Somebody thought they'd make inter'sting critters fer nex' year's Magical Creatures class."

Ivy was speechless. She would not allow herself to believe what she was seeing. Hagrid, looking just as she remembered him, bending over to scoop up a winged pig and tuck it under one arm like a sack of sugar.

"Good ter see yeh, Ivy," he began, moustache twitching. 

"Ha... Hagrid," Ivy returned. "What are you doing here? I mean... how?"

"Why I came ter show yeh the pig, a'course. Had ter tell yeh that I was wrong when I thought pigs didn't fly. Professor Dumbledore over there.... He helped me ter find one tha' did. Thought yeh mighta wanted ter see it."

"It's... erm. It's a flying pig all right." She gazed up into the beetle black eyes she'd missed for so long. They shined bright as he returned her gaze. "And what did you say about them?" she continued.

Hagrid's look turned puzzled.

"Remember," she said, slowly regaining her equilibrium. "You said you thought pigs didn't fly and you were... what was the word again? Wrong?"

Hagrid grunted. He put the squirming pig down on the ground, then turned his attention back to Ivy.

"I was," he said softly, as Ivy's eyes welled up with tears. "I was wrong, Ivy. Can yeh ever fergive me?"

She laughed through her tears. "Forgive you? For thinking pigs don't fly? Well I would, but I've thought the same thing myself, lately." She wiped at her eyes.

"There's som'thin' else I wanna show yeh," Hagrid said, his voice low and heavy with emotion. He walked out of the garden and around to the front of the mansion. Ivy held back for a long moment, until Rosmerta pushed her forward.

"Go!" she commanded.

"I don't know if I can."

Rose waved her forward with a wink. "Just go and listen, Ivy. You'll be alright."

But Ivy wasn't sure. While her heart wanted her to run after Hagrid, her head was full of caution. She hadn't forgotten that moment in Hagrid's cabin when she'd begged him to let her stay, and he'd stood aside while her father led her away. Forgiving was easy. Just one look at him and Hagrid was forgiven. But forgetting was another story.

"Go _on_..." Rose prodded.

Ivy sighed, then turned to follow Hagrid. He was waiting for her in the mansion's cobblestone drive, a big wooden crate at his feet. He beckoned her forward, putting a finger over his lips to warn her to be quiet in her approach. 

She looked in the crate, perplexed for a moment, till one of the beasts inside raised its head and gave a little screech.

"Hippogriffs!" Ivy exclaimed, waking them all. The hatchlings set up an insistent screeching, stretching their bald necks toward Hagrid.

"Yeh went an' woke em up," he chided. "An' they won' shut up now till I feed em. Min' yeh, they're not tha' pretty yet. Haven't got all their feathers in."

Ivy knelt in front of the crate, stretching her hand out to pet one. The hippogriff screeched and slashed with its tiny little beak.

"They don' know yeh yet," Hagrid said, sinking to one knee beside her. "Give em a little time, they'll be beggin' yeh fer food, jus' like they do me."

Ivy studied him for a long moment. His cheeks were flushed. His eyes as sparklingly brilliant as she remembered. His hair hung even longer than when she'd last seen him, and his beard.... She clenched her fists so as not to reach out and touch him. 

"Hagrid, what are you saying? Are you here just to show me the flying pig you and Professor Dumbledore found?"

Hagrid gave her a wink, and it was so easy, so familiar, it made her heart hurt. "Reckon I had a few more things in mind."

"What kind of things?" Ivy pressed, trying very hard to look unconcerned as she allowed her fingers to dangle over the edge of the crate. When one of the hatchlings stretched forward to investigate, she leaned over to scratch its wrinkly head.

"Firs' thing," Hagrid reached into his shirt pocket, retrieving something silver. "Thought I'd see if yeh might wan' this back." He opened his fist, and Ivy saw her old hippogriff pendant dangling between his huge fingers. She held out a hand, willing it not to tremble, as Hagrid dropped the necklace into her palm.

"An' I figured if yeh took that back, then yeh might take this...." When Ivy looked up from clasping the chain around her neck, she beheld Hagrid's mother's wedding band sparkling in his grasp.

Ivy shook her head in disbelief, reflexively backing away from Hagrid's outstretched hand. So many emotions overflowed her senses that she felt dizzy.

"Maybe I got no right ter ask again, Ivy," Hagrid breathed. "Maybe yeh forgot about me, an' I wouldn't blame yeh. Could be what I done even caused yeh ter hate me."

That pushed Ivy over the edge. She gazed up at him openly, done with trying to guard her heart. "How could I ever hate you, Rubeus Hagrid? I love you. Remember? I told you that last time I saw you."

"Never meant ter hurt yeh," he said raggedly, reaching for her hand. "I was tryin' ter protec' yeh."

"I've heard that before," Ivy gave him a watery grin.

"Will yeh marry me, Ivy Ollivander?" Hagrid asked, slipping his mother's ring over her fingertips.

"On one condition," Ivy said, watching as she tipped her hand upward and the ring slid home, becoming her engagement bracelet again.

"Anythin'," Hagrid agreed, bringing her hand to his lips.

"You said we'd get married in October, remember?"

Hagrid nodded.

"All right then," Ivy went on. "I want to get married the very first moment of October first. Promise?"

"I'd marry yeh August the firs' if yeh'd let me," Hagrid confirmed.

"That's tomorrow," Ivy countered.

"Professor Dumbledore's here. He'd marry us now, if we ask him."

"But I'm not ready," Ivy protested, heart skipping a beat. "I don't have a dress."

Hagrid grinned, and although Ivy didn't know it, it was the first time he'd smiled since last winter's blizzard. "All our friends are a'ready here. Harry, the Weasleys, the Lupins. Ever'body from Hogsmeade."

Ivy stood to her feet, staring down at Hagrid. Not only had she seen pigs fly, now he wanted her to ride off on the back of one again.

"All my mum's old clothes are up in the attic..." she said, barely believing the words as they slid out of her mouth. "I could wear _her_ dress. And I always promised Rose she could stand up for me." Her mind went back to the moment she'd faced Gingerfoot, back in Hogsmeade. She'd been scared then, but her trust in Hagrid had propelled her forward. The same as it pushed her now.

"You'll have to ask my father," she reminded.

Hagrid grunted and heaved himself to his feet, then leaned over to pick up the hippogriff crate.

"Not a problem, Ivy," he assured her. "Not a problem at all."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is everything ready?" Ivy asked as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Her mother's wedding dress, aged to a warm ivory, now fit Ivy perfectly. It had been a bit short at first, but Rose had fixed that with a quick lengthening spell. 

Rosmerta nodded, taking a moment to tug gently on one side of Ivy's veil.

"And every_one_?"

Rose laughed. "If you're wondering about Hagrid, don't worry. Remus won't let him escape again. He and Harry are helping him with his clothes."

Ivy imagined Harry and Remus taking turns pointing their wands and trying out different looks on the giant. "Poor Hagrid," she murmured.

"Wait till you see him, Ivy. He looks...." She cast about for appropriate words to describe him. She'd just come from downstairs, where she had brushed out his hair till it lay soft and shiny across his shoulders, and even curled the ends of his moustache.

"Awesome?" Ivy asked, smiling dreamily. "Beautiful? Breathtaking?"

Rose laughed out loud. "He's supposed to say that about _you_. And you are all of that, Ivy. Just look at you. Elana would be proud."

"I'm marrying Rubeus _Hagrid_, Rosmerta," Ivy whispered.

"I know!" Rose replied, grinning. "The giant of your dreams. And this isn't even the best part."

"The best part?" Ivy wondered out loud.

"You know... later. When you and the giant of your dreams are... alone. For the rest of your lives."

Ivy flushed scarlet.

Rose laughed and drew her into an embrace. 

"It's time to go downstairs...."

Ivy nodded, taking one last quick look in the mirror. She pulled a few strands of hair forward, then let Rose lead her toward the garden. It was nearly midnight, July 31st. True to his word, Hagrid had arranged for the ceremony to proceed on the first moment of August 1st.

The garden was illuminated by a myriad of torches. Professor Dumbledore had even managed to recruit a few thousand fairies, and they drifted around lazily, lighting up the summer night with their glow. As Ivy waited to walk down the aisle, several of them took up residence in her hair, whispering and gesturing excitedly. Augustus came to his daughter's side, and they waited for their cue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's too much," Hagrid muttered, savagely pulling at the red-and-gold striped tie around his throat. "I'll take the coat an' vest, but the tie.... An' look at my hair."

Remus laughed. "Not to worry, Hagrid. I felt the same way when Rose and I got married. But this part will be over soon enough. Then you can get on to the best part."

"Bes' part?" Hagrid prompted.

"Spending the rest of your life with the one you love most," Remus reminded. "Cooking dinner. Washing dishes. Making babies.... You know, the best part."

Hagrid coughed loudly, then began to tug on his tie again.

"Don't mean to embarrass you, old man. Just an observation from somebody who's been married a little while. You made a good decision here. Ivy's a great girl. And I think...." he sighed, remembering the wonder of his first few months married to Rosmerta. "I think it's time to go...." 

Hagrid nodded, turning toward the garden, and leaving Remus Lupin far behind. He saw Ivy on the first floor balcony as Dumbledore beckoned him toward the garden's gazebo. It was nearly midnight. He took his place absently, eyes never leaving her face, as the assembled guests stood, and Rosmerta took the lead. 

Ivy felt a tear slide down her cheek as she let go of Augustus' hand and bounded up the gazebo steps. She knew she wouldn't make the most demure bride this way, but appearances didn't matter any more. She took Hagrid's outstretched hand, squeezing it as hard as she could, as they turned to face Professor Dumbledore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, Article twelve, section 372, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Rubeus Hagrid." Professor Dumbledore looked from one of them to the other, blue eyes sparkling.

"Hagrid.... You may kiss your bride."

Hagrid leaned over obediently, lifting Ivy off her feet and planting his lips enthusiastically on hers. A cheer rose from the assembly as Ivy returned his kiss with relish. Someone, probably Rosmerta, chose that moment to heave the fat flying pig into the air. It squealed indignantly, then circled the half-giant and his wife. As their lips parted, Ivy's eyes went wide. Staring skyward, she tugged on his sleeve.

"Look," she whispered.

Hagrid turned to look up at the sky, and saw a huge light shining on them.

"That star's not blinking. It must be a planet. Or two," Ivy explained knowingly. "Mars and Saturn. They finally decided to align. Took them long enough, don't you think?"

Hagrid only grunted softly, picking her up in his arms so he could kiss her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the wedding feast Hagrid instructed Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny on how to feed the hippogriff hatchlings, and then he and Ivy disappeared. They decided that the mansion's gate house would be a perfect place to start their honeymoon.

"I love you," Ivy told Hagrid, as he carried her across the threshold. Hagrid gave a characteristic grunt and stood her in a nearby chair, so he could look her in the eye. 

"Not near as much as I love you."

Ivy grinned and swatted him on the shoulder, reaching her hands into his hair and ruffling through it until it was properly untidy. Then her smile faltered a little.

"What was it that made you come back?"

"Flyin' pigs," Hagrid grinned, finally ridding himself of the dreaded tie. "An' hippogriffs. Did yeh know a female hippogriff'll sacrifice ever'thing fer her mate? Even her future."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Even her future?"

Hagrid nodded, and told her the whole story, all the while unlacing the back of her wedding dress.

"And what happened to the male?" Ivy inquired, turning around in his arms.

Hagrid smiled mysteriously. "Seemed he wasn't mortally wounded after all. A couple a Charms an' he were good as new. Even lef' 'em a couple a eggs ter hatch. Olaf decided he didn' need five when all was said an' done."

"You saved him?" Ivy asked, shivering as her husband pushed age-ivoried lace and satin off her shoulders with his big beloved hands.

"Had ter Stupify 'im firs'. An' the female. Didn't know what I were up to."

Ivy understood. 

"When I saw the female standin' over her wounded mate, I remembered you. How yeh stood over me when things got real nasty. How yeh let me run yeh off instead a beggin' ter stay."

Ivy laughed. "I remember begging. At least in my head. But what good would it have done me to stay, if I weren't wanted?"

"Le's ferget all a that, Ivy," Hagrid said, in a voice choked with emotion. "Yer wanted now. By me. Yer one an only."

Ivy blushed, then nodded slowly. "You are. My one... and only...." She left the sentence dangle between them, as understanding dawned on Hagrid.

"Are yeh sayin' wha' I think yer sayin, Ivy?" he asked, heart swelling with a new sense of love for his bride. He pulled her to him, running his thumb along the line of her jaw.

She gave a nervous laugh. "Well... who would I have...? I mean.... I couldn't exactly have... _married_ a Muggle, could I? I wanted to... you know... save myself.

"For you." She looked up into Hagrid's eyes, confused by the worry she saw there.

"I don' wanna hurt yeh, Ivy. Ever again." he whispered. 

"You won't," she assured him, reaching up to unbutton his stiffly starched shirt. As each button surrendered to her manipulation, she planted a kiss in its place.

"Yer right about that," he spoke in a voice that was low and full of emotion. "_Endorpho Chrysalis._" He whispered the Charm in her ear, and immediately Ivy felt a cocooning warmth envelope her. A knowledge that as long as she was in Hagrid's arms nothing would hurt her. She reached up and lost her fingers in his moustache as he kissed her. He carried her into the bedroom, and carefully, sweetly, they mounted a hippogriff all their own, allowing it to take them ever higher into the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A warm ray of morning sunlight woke Ivy the next morning. Or it could have been the sparrow twittering on the casement, she couldn't be sure. All she could see in front of her was Hagrid's big right hand. She stretched forward, smiling to herself as she pressed one of her palms against his. And then the other. She marveled once again that both her hands fit so neatly in one of his. 

She pulled her hands back and rolled over in bed to face him, heart swelling with the knowledge that this time, nothing would drive her away. 

Dust motes swirled in the sunbeam that settled itself across Hagrid's chest. Ivy pushed herself up on her pillows Here the difference in their statures didn't matter. She watched him sleep until she could hold back no longer, then, reaching out, she allowed her fingers to trace the line where his beard sprouted on his cheeks. The freedom of knowing that Hagrid was hers forever emboldened her, and she caressed his bottom lip with the ball of her thumb.

His eyes fluttered, then opened.

"Good morning," Ivy whispered.

"Ivy," he returned, pulling her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, privately thanking Mars and Saturn for finally getting in line. Then she kissed him again.

"Pigs fly, Hagrid," she murmured as she enjoyed her husband's caresses. "And hippogriffs.... They're real. I've ridden one or two, and I think they're my favorite magical creature."

Hagrid grunted and gave her a wink. "Not mine," he said, nibbling on the place where her neck met her shoulder. "My fav'rite magical creature would be... you."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed, and then nestled ever closer against him. Finally, irrevocably, home. 


	25. Epilogue: Blackie's Gift

"Ah, there you are," Professor Dumbledore spoke to the silhouette of a man in the shadows of Hogsmeade. "Right on time, as usual."

The silhouette nodded, stepping onto moonlit High Street. Professor Dumbledore bowed to Sirius Black.

"Were you able to get Remus? And Rose?" he asked the Headmaster.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am afraid we will have to proceed without them. They were otherwise occupied. I'm sure Mrs. Hagrid will understand."

Black gave a wry smile, and another nod. His eyes shone over-bright as he pulled out his wand, warming up with a little swish-and-flick.

Professor Dumbledore did the same. "Shall we?"

Black flashed him a grin. "After you."

"Together then," Dumbledore proposed graciously. Both wizards pointed their wands and spoke into the darkness.

"_Reparo_." 

And bit by bit Ivy's old house began to rise from the dust and the rubble. Scattered rocks that had once been part of the foundation rumbled, slowly re-planting themselves in their rightful places. Pieces of glass that had been shattered flew together in flashes of bright, reflected moonlight, re-assembling in once-splintered window casements. Thatch from the roof flew in from every direction, fitting back into its original position. 

The furniture was Summoned and arranged with care, just as Sirius remembered. The only thing missing, the one flaw that would not be repaired, was a place on Ivy's bedroom wall. A portion of the dragon-decorated wallpaper was nowhere to be found, no matter how much Summoning Sirius attempted. Finally, as morning dawned, the wizards gave up. They shook hands, wearily, and said their goodbyes, each Apparating in different directions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ivy,

I hear congratulations are in order. Believe it or not, I'm very happy for you. For both of you. Hagrid is a lucky man. And one day I may yet be able to tell him so. For now though, I leave you a gift. A wedding present you will find where your cottage used to be. 

Remember me whenever you look at the vulture tree.

Yours Truly,

Blackie 

"A present," Ivy exclaimed, re-reading Black's letter. "Hagrid, come on. Let's go see what it is."

Hagrid let Ivy lead him down the forest path, mystified. He didn't know anybody named Blackie, but his love for his wife was more than enough to propel him through the woods. When they got to the stream, he crossed first, then turned to lift Ivy over the water. And so he was the first to lay eyes on Blackie's gift in the daylight. He rubbed his eyes, then turned Ivy around so she would be able to see.

"My house!" she exclaimed, running across High Street.

"He fixed my house."

Hagrid scratched his head wonderingly. "He who?"

"Blackie," Ivy grinned, running back across the street to tug on her husband's arm. "Let's go look."

The way she said the name this time rang a bell in Hagrid's head. "Yeh mean tha' big dog, used ter hang aroun' here?"

She nodded, pushing open the gate and rushing up the walk. 

"Remember... I lost the house when I didn't pass the magic test?"

"But Dumbledore said Zonko cheated," Hagrid reminded, trying to keep all his facts straight.

"He switched wands," Ivy said, entering the house and heading for the kitchen. It was all there. She smoothed a hand across the dragon-lighting-a-cauldron wallpaper. "He bumped into me, just before the test. I thought he was being rude, but... turns out he was stealing _my_ wand and replacing it with one of those trick wands he had at the joke shop. Nobody could have done magic with that wand. Not even Dumbledore."

"So yeh did magic, did yeh?" Hagrid asked, moustache twitching as he watched his wife head down the hall, her fingertips trailing along the wall as she went.

"I did," she grinned, turning back to look at him. "I made cups float, and set things on fire."

"Summoned me back ter yeh."

She laughed, stopping in her tracks when she got to the bedroom. There was a note attached to the wall where a portion of the plaster showed through.

I couldn't get this piece back for you, Ivy. Don't know what went wrong. Maybe Hagrid can fix it. Your friend, Blackie.

"Yer gonna have ter tell me who this Blackie feller is," Hagrid muttered. He watched as Ivy brought something out of the pocket of her robe. It looked like a slip of paper. She unfolded it, pressing it to the empty place on the wall.

"Could you?" she asked, revealing the missing piece of Charlie's wallpaper. "I sort of... kept it.... When I saw what they did to my house."

"Ivy," Hagrid murmured, eyes narrowing. "I wish I coulda saved yeh from all this."

Ivy laughed. "You did."

Hagrid surged forward, shaking out his pink umbrella and pointing it at the wall.

"Reparo," he spoke, and the torn places melded together.

"See, one expertly tamed dragon." Ivy jumped on the bed so she could look Hagrid in the eye. "Thanks." 

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Yer welcome."

"Come to think of it, I have a lot I need to properly thank you for," she said as her fingers worked through his hair. "How many times now have you saved my life?"

"Oh, 'bout 500," Hagrid teased.

"500?" Ivy gasped. "It's going to take me forever to make up for that."

"Only the rest a yer life," Hagrid said as his wife's fingers drifted down his shoulders to play across his chest. 

Ivy pressed her lips against his, and he could feel her smile. "Then I'd better get started." 

"Don' see how anybody can say yer not magic," Hagrid told her, repeating a phrase very close to what her mother had said the day she was born.

"It's love, Hagrid," Ivy answered, working industriously on the buttons of his shirt. "Just ask any witch or wizard. They'll tell you. It's the strongest magic of all."

"An' it's one magic test yeh pass wi' full marks," Hagrid announced softly, kissing the top of her head. 

"You think?" Ivy countered, looking up at him with one raised eyebrow.

Hagrid grunted from deep in the back of his throat, "Reckon even a Muggle could figure that out." 

And together they finished what Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore had started the night before: making Ivy's house a home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End...


	26. Author Thanks

Just wanted to say thank you to everybody who stuck with me to the end!

You guys rock. :o)

Let me know what you think of the finished product. I'd LOVE to know.

Also, special thanks to Lala, Wolfie and Parker, who beta'd for me. (It was A LOT of words!) Where would I be without you?? Don't ask. It isn't pretty.

Thanks, 

Lorry


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